The Greatest Reward
by flashpenguin
Summary: With reports due, and Taylor heading to Europe for the summer, Joss thought her life was just going along...until bed bugs throw a monkey wrench into her plans. With no place to stay, she gets an invite by Reese to stay with him. It's just a friend helping a friend...right? Not if the team and the Machine has anything to say about it. *Warning: Pure Sappy Romance Alert!*
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, readers! I really hope all of you have had a wonderful and safe summer. It has been a long six months, but I am finding my footing and I hope to be back to my old self soon. I am not sure I have any readers still hanging around, but I thought I'd post this new story. It's an original CaReese love story with no bad guys—just bad bugs—and maybe a curve or two in the road. However, the team—and the Machine—will be playing cupid to bring the two star-crossed lovers together. I hope you enjoy._

 _I don't own Person of Interest._

 _ **Song prompt: "The Greatest Reward" by Celine Dion**_

 _This story is dedicated to Taraji Leah—the newest member of the family, and the most beautiful and sweetest brindle Boxer on planet earth. Welcome home!_

 **The Greatest Reward**

Detective Joss Carter was not having a great day. Hell, she would go so far as to say that she wasn't even having anything resembling a good day. Desperate to get her bearings, she had been tempted to call in and use a sick day. But the rational part of her being—the military trained side that dictated she "suck it up"–– argued that she really needed to go in––if for no other reason than she took an oath to protect and to serve.

Now, here she was barely shuffling into the 8th precinct, her coffee in one hand, and a brown paper bag containing her breakfast in her other. Never had her office chair looked so inviting. She sat down heavily and tried to get her bearings before she attempted to tackle her IN box.

"Morning, partner," Detective Lionel Fusco greeted cheerfully as he raised his head. Realizing that something was wrong, he removed his reading glasses and peered closer at Joss. "What's wrong?" he inquired.

"Tired," Joss replied. She pulled the lid off of the coffee cup and took a long sip. The hot java burned her tongue and gave a little kick to her system, but it was going to take more than one cup to jump start her this morning. She wondered if there was an intravenous way of supplying caffeine directly to her brain, and if there were, how could she get one before her shift started?

"Well, you do look like hell," Lionel observed comfortingly.

"Thanks, Fusco. You're a big help," Joss groused and took another sip.

Lionel stood up and walked over to Joss' desk and took a seat on the corner. "What's wrong? Wonderboy and Glasses got you working over time on another one of their super secret missions?" he joked.

"I wish." Joss ran a hand over her weary forehead. "I can't sleep," she confessed and followed it with a yawn.

"Insomnia?"

"Never had it. It's...something else." But what, she couldn't say. For once, her detective abilities failed her, and it frustrated her beyond all reason. Or it could be that she was so sleep deprived that she really no longer cared. Either way, she was dragging and it made life suck. And when life sucked for Joss Carter, it was best not to be on the criminal side of life.

Lionel appeared worried by the non-revelation. "What do you mean?" He didn't want to go there, but, after all, he did have a male brain, and the thought that popped in made him suddenly want a drink. "Is it a guy thing?" he wondered a loud.

"No. I keep waking up every morning around 3 a.m. I thought it was a noise outside, but after three nights..." Joss shook her head "...it's something I can't put my finger on. It's like I wake up itching. Right around my ankles."

"Allergies?"

"I don't know. Here. Look." Joss raised the cuff of her tailored slacks to reveal her ankle. Lionel leaned over to inspect. The little red dots were like nothing he had ever seen. He gave them a flummoxed look.

"Ants?" he guessed.

"Probably." She lowered the cuff. "Never had a problem with them before. Guess I should call the exterminator," she mused, then groaned. "Ugh!"

"What's wrong?"

"Just that Taylor is getting ready to go on his European trip next week, and my mother is thinking about moving in," Joss confessed. "I don't know if I have the time to worry about scheduling exterminators and having to take time off from work..." She sighed. "I'll give it a month."

"Are you sure?" Lionel asked. "I heard that once ants get inside, it's practically impossible to get rid of them. Especially the flying kind."

Joss looked apprehensive. "Flying ants? That's a deal breaker. Okay," she relented, "by the end of the week. Do you know anyone?"

"Funny you should ask. My ex-brother-in-law owns a pest control service. It's completely state of the art; if there is a bug in your home, he can find it. Guaranteed. How about I give him a call for you?" Lionel offered and pulled out his phone. "I can get you set up this week."

Joss held up her hand. "Fusco, that's going to be expensive, and I have to watch my budget so I can fund Taylor's trip," she argued. "It can wait."

"Think you can go a few more nights without sleep?" he challenged. "You know that reviews are coming up next month and we'll have to put our best foot forward."

Joss debated for a moment before caving. "Alright. How much is it going to cost?"

"Nothing. It's on me."

"Really?" Joss asked incredulously at the thought of her partner being so altruistic. Maybe things were starting to look up after all.

"He owes me one, so I'll call in my chips just for you," Lionel grinned and stood up. "An...nd, there is that one report I need to get done," he hedged and handed over the folder in his hands. Joss took it, opened it and scanned the contents.

"This is the Sullivan arrest from last month," she admonished. "I thought it was closed."

"I got behind helping out our mutual friends," Lionel tried to absolve himself of not having completed his task. "Now the Captain is riding my ass over it."

Joss shook her head and closed the folder. "Lionel..."

"Come on, Carter," he pleaded. "I'm helping you; help me."

Joss struggled with herself for a long moment. "Oh, okay. This one time," she conceded. "But your ex-brother-in-law better be as good as you say he is," she warned.

"If he isn't, I'll do your reports for a month," Lionel offered. He stuck out his hand. Joss hesitated for a moment, then shook it to seal the deal.

"Call him. But get me another coffee first."

Kenny Carpenter carefully inspected the cracks and edging in Joss' brownstone interior with a special light. The minutes passed by as he took his time to go over every single inch. Absolutely nothing was going to escape his attention to find the culprit.

"When did it begin?" he asked before getting down on his knees to check out the base boards. He ran his finger over the edge and then brought the tip to his nose. Sniffing carefully, he made a note on his clipboard.

"Uh...a few nights ago. I guess," Joss answered while warily watching the classically handsome, blonde man inspect each room. "I didn't think it was a big deal," she continued.

"It was a mild winter with some cold snaps," Kenny observed casually, "and the summer is supposed to be hot and dry, so the ants will be coming in to look for water and cool air." He stood up and looked around. "Where did they first bite you?" he inquired.

"The bedroom. I think. Follow me." Joss led the way up the stairs to the master bedroom. Kenny stepped inside the large, tastefully decorated room. He opened the dresser drawers and checked the cracks. Finding nothing, he moved to the closet and opened the door. He spent a few minutes inside before stepping out.

"The chair," he nodded toward the high-back chair near the large window. "How long have you had it?"

"Uh, forever. My grandmother gave it to me."

"Hmmm." Kenny leaned down and used his flashlight to examine the upholstery. Moving the cushion, he stuck his hand down in the crevices. Pulling out, he examined his fingertips. "How about the bed? How old is the mattress?"

"Ummm..." Joss tried to remember when she purchased her bed. "I got out in 2004...uh, ten plus years. Why?"

"And it was brand new?"

"Brought it home from the showroom that day."

"Your sheets, the comforter...?"

"A few years. What's going on?" Joss looked at Kenny and tried to read his body language, but he was guarded. She could feel herself getting nervous.

"I need to look at your son's room, if that's alright."

"Sure."

Ten minutes later, Kenny stepped out into the hallway.

"Well?" Joss asked and crossed her fingers.

"I couldn't really find anything," he concluded. "But I want to lay some traps down."

"Traps?"

"Insect traps. Do you have any pets?"

Joss shook her head. "No."

"I am going to put them around your room and in your son's. I am going to give it a couple of days, then check them."

"Two days?"

"Just long enough to catch anything that might be hiding. If there is something, I'll know what it is and how to treat it," Kenny explained.

"Do you think it's serious?"

Kenny shrugged. "I don't know. But we'll find out, Detective." He checked his watch. "I guess I should go get the traps so I can let you go back to work," he excused himself and Joss.

"Can I get you a cup of coffee first?" Joss politely offered.

Kenny smiled. "That would be nice. Cream and sugar, please."

"Coming up." Joss turned to leave.

"Lionel was right about you," Kenny said out of the blue.

Joss stopped and turned around. "Lionel was right about me, how?"

"He said you're no-nonsense and don't mess around. You give honesty and expect it in return."

Joss looked surprised at the description given by her partner. "Oh?"Joss smiled warmly. "Well, ditto. I'll get that cup of coffee."

Two days later it was the moment of truth. Donning her best military bearing and trying to tap down her worst fears, Joss stood off to the side as Kenny opened the trap and used a magnifying glass to inspect the insects.

"It isn't what I was hoping for," Kenny said simply. His face was blank but his tone spoke volumes.

Joss braced herself and asked, "What is it?"

Kenny used tweezers to hold up the pest so Joss could get a good look. "Bedbugs."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks for all the kind words. Here is the second chapter. Yeah, Joss is dragging her feet. But would we expect anything less from her?_

 _Hope you like the long chapter._

* * *

 **The Greatest Reward**

Standing in the line for the Roach Coach, Lionel stamped his foot against the pavement and blew on his fingertips. He had a dozen things he needed to be doing, but the text to meet for coffee was something he didn't dare ignore.

"Good morning, Lionel," John Reese's familiar low tone greeted.

No longer startled by the way the ex-CIA hitman could stealthily come up behind, Lionel rolled his eyes. "Good morning to you, too, Batman. What are you doing here? Doesn't Gotham need protecting?"

Reese's facial expression revealed nothing. "Heh. It will survive."

"Sure it will," Lionel scoffed and rubbed his hands vigorously.

"Glad you could take time from work to meet with me."

"I'll bet you are," Lionel replied sarcastically. "Two cups of coffee in one hour; the Captain is going to start thinking that I don't do any work."

Reese feigned surprise. "You work?"

"Smart aleck," Lionel growled. "What is so important that I had to drop my filing?"

"Where's Carter?"

Slightly stunned by the inquiry, Lionel decided to play stupid. "What do you mean?"

"She hasn't been to work in two days."

"Two days...?" Lionel repeated. "How do you know that?" He shook his head. "No, I'm not going to ask." The line moved. "She is taking care of some personal business," he replied simply. Reese gave him a concentrated look. "She's..."

The perfect mask of stoicism remained in place. "She's...what, Lionel?" Reese prompted. It didn't show, but his heart picked up speed at the thought of Joss being injured or hurt. How did the Machine miss it, he wondered. What ever was wrong with her, he was going to find out—even if it meant dangling the portly detective over the side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

Lionel looked around before lowering his voice. He still put his hand near his mouth to muffle his answer, "She has bed bugs."

Consumed with thoughts on how to get the answers from Lionel, Reese thought he misheard the response. "She has what?"

"Bedbugs," Lionel replied a bit louder.

"Bed what?"

"Bedbugs," Lionel said loud enough for the patrons in line to hear him. A couple people gasped before shooting the detective an angry look. More than a few stepped clear to put enough space between them and Lionel. "Geez! I was trying to be discreet," he groused angrily.

"Are you sure?" Reese asked. The line moved and Lionel took a step forward. No one followed him.

"Got it on good authority. My ex-brother-in-law, okay? He's going to do the treatment at cost as a favour, but Joss is having to go through everything and toss out practically everything she owns. She's not in a good mood," Lionel warned. "She's got more bite than those blood-sucking critters."

"Then what?"

"Then what, what?"

"Will she be back to work?" Reese wondered.

"I don't know. Taylor is leaving for three months in Europe. I think Joss' mother is going to allow her to stay for the two weeks it's going to take to treat everything in the brownstone."

"Thanks Lionel."

Lionel snorted. "Pffft! Thanks? I'm the one who going to go into kidney failure, and all you can say is thanks. Ought to make you pay..." He looked around and found Reese had disappeared into thin air – as usual. No one in line would make eye contact, but a few did step back and give him room as he step up to make his order.

"One coffee. Industrial strength," he ordered. "And two danishes." He slapped the money on the counter and waited.  
*********

"Mother. No. Listen," Joss pleaded as she walked from the living room to the kitchen. "I really need to stay at your place for the next month." Holding in the sigh she knew was warranted but wouldn't be appreciated, she listened to Mila Kelly's response.

"I understand, Mom, but I have no where to go." Joss pulled a mug down from the cupboard. It would be her last cup of coffee in her place for the next two weeks, and she was going to make the most of it. She poured the scalding liquid and added the creamer. She stirred and listened.

"Yes, Great-Aunt Josephine needs help, but I-" Joss cut herself off. She was pleading, and she hated to plead for anything. "But your house...I thought...You're selling it?" She set the mug down with finality as the truth sank in: She had no place to stay. "I understand. I do. I know you promised Grandma. Yes... No, I'll figure something out. Give Aunt Josephine my love. Talk to you when you get to Baltimore. Bye."

Joss ended the call and set the phone down on the counter. Lifting the cup to her lips, she started to turn around, then jerked back in surprise. "John!"

"Hello Joss."

"What are you doing here, and how did you get into my house?" she demanded.

"I used the front door."

"Comforting, but that doesn't answer my first question: What are you doing here?"

"You haven't been at the 8th for a couple of days and I was worried." He had been more than worried, but he wouldn't tell her that. After all, she was a better shot, and he was still The Man In The Suit. And in a technical kind of law-breaking way, he was trespassing.

"Well," she sighed, "you can go back to knee-capping the bad guys because I'm okay." Joss tried to remain cool and calm, but her hand shook as she lifted the mug. "I got it under control."

"I saw the boxes. And I spoke to Lionel."

"Heh. Good ol' Fusco." Joss set the mug down. "It's nothing."

"Bedbugs?"

"It's being taken care of. I have movers coming in about an hour to take most of the stuff away; another set of movers to take the furniture to the dump to be burned; and tomorrow the exterminator is going to start the first steam treatment," Joss listed off the "To Do List".

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? It's not as though you did this...then again, you may have with that one perp drop off a couple of months ago." Joss walked thru the organized mess and looked around at the living room that had once been tastefully decorated with everything in its place. "Doesn't matter now." She lovingly touched the highback upholstered antique chair.

"How bad?" Reese asked softly.

"The beds, the carpets, the pillows, comforters, the living room set, a few books and...things. Nothing that can't be replaced." Her voice shook just a little. "Nothing..."

Reese's well trained ears heard the catch in her voice, and his eyes watched as she stroked the chair. The question he wanted to ask, died in his throat. Instead, he said, "You were talking to someone."

"My mother. Seems that she has to go to Baltimore to take care of my great-Aunt Josephine who fell and broke her pelvis but refuses to go into a care facility. Mother has an obligation to fill, so she is going to stay there. Coffee?" she asked.

"Thanks." Reese followed Joss to the kitchen. He watched as Joss poured the coffee. He took the mug, but he didn't drink. He listened.

"I thought I could stay with her, but she is going to sell her house. In fact, she already has an offer. Which is great for her, but sucks for me. With Taylor in Europe, my only other option is to stay at a flea-bag motel...which will not help the situation."

"Stay with me."

Joss blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Stay with me. I have the room, and you have nowhere to go, so it's a win-win."

Joss laughed but it was full of irony. "Win-win? Yeah. My life is falling apart, and I am supposed to start putting the pieces together by moving in with you?" The thought was almost too twisted to consider. In fact, it bordered on the absurd.

"Joss-"

"It won't work."

"Why?"

"Uh...I'm a detective, and you are The Man In The Suit. It defies the law of physics, and the law." she presented her logical and concise argument. "And common sense."

"You need a place to stay," he argued. He knew better than to push her, but this wasn't about good or bad; or right and wrong; it was about survival. He couldn't just leave her to fend for herself in a rundown motel.

"I'll find one."

Reese set his mug down beside Joss' mug. "This is my fault. Let me try to help. It's the least I can do."

"Then what, John?"

"I don't know. I've never lived with anyone other than my parents and the guys in the military barracks," he admitted honestly.

Joss shook her head. It was so tempting, but there was so much at stake. "I'll think about it." But her common sense was telling her to say no. _Nothing good can come of staying with him._

"Door will be open." Reese placed a piece of folded paper on the counter. "Any time. Day or night."

"Thanks, John." The doorbell chimed through out the brownstone. "I'll get back-" Her reply was cut off as she looked up and noticed him gone. She sighed. "I hate it when he does that. Okay." She set her mug down and walked over to the door. She looked through the peep hole. "Movers," she muttered. "Time to get the show on the road."  
********

The number was saved to live another day, and the bad guy had an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon—once he was sentenced. And all was right with the world, Reese thought to himself as he poured himself a double shot of whiskey and took a seat on the couch.

It had been a pretty uneventful day, but all he could think about was Joss and the hell she was going thru. If only there had been something he could have done to make her heart not hurt so much. But he had noticed the way she looked at the high back chair, and he was sure that there was a connection. Too bad he was never going to find out what it was.

His stomach rumbled. He looked at his watch. It was still early, but maybe he could get a bite before the Machine threw out a last minute number. Lately it had become fickle. Maybe it was best to be like the Boy Scouts, he thought to himself and threw back the drink.

As he stood up, the doorbell rang. His heart skipped a beat as he hurried over to the heavy oak door. With nimble fingers he undid the chains and locks. He opened the door.

"Hi John," Joss greeted. Over her shoulder was a carry-on bag, and at her feet were two suitcases. Her eyes were red rimmed, and she appeared exhausted. "Still got that room?"

"Joss." Reese couldn't help but smile.

"The offer to stay...is it still available?" she asked softly. She didn't like to beg, but pride be damned. She was tired and weary and all she wanted to do was take a long, hot bath and sleep for a week.

"I haven't given your room away, if that is what you're asking," Reese teased. "Come on in," he offered and stepped aside. Reaching out, he took the carry-on from her. It was light as a feather. He wondered what she had left behind at her brownstone. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Everything is bug free," Joss said to ease any fears of a possible infestation.

"I'm not afraid of bugs, Joss," Reese replied confidently. He picked up her suitcases before closing the door with his foot. "I'm just glad you're here."

"It wasn't on my plan," Joss confessed with some reluctance. The surprised look on her friend's face made her explain, "I tried to call for a hotel or motel room, but there were no vacancies."

"Oh?"

"I tried every one within a five mile radius. Not one had a vacant room. Strange," she muttered at the bad streak of luck that seemed to be defining her life.

"Very," Reese concurred. He wouldn't think about the strange coincidence now. First, he needed to get Joss settled. "If you follow me, I'll show you to your room."

"What? No pup tent on the floor?" Joss joked.

"I would like to think my place is nicer than the desert of Iraq," Reese feigned offense at the comparison.

"It is." From what she had seen, it was a nice place.

"Tell you what, Joss. Let's get you settled, freshened up, and then we'll eat," Reese offered up his plan. "Then maybe later I'll give you the grand tour."

Joss sighed as the fight went out of her. "That sounds wonderful."

Reese started up the ladder. "Follow me."


	3. Chapter 3

_I am posting this today, however, there won't be anything tomorrow in remembrance of Sept 11th._

* * *

 **The Greatest Reward**

"That was delicious," Joss sighed and leaned back against the cushions of the couch. She wasn't sure what had been on the menu, but one taste was all it took to make her dive in and eat as though she hadn't eaten in weeks. "Not sure what it was, but it was good," she complimented.

"Thank you. It's a Venezuelan dish."

Joss looked at him in surprise. "You were in..." She held up her hand to stop his response. "No. No. I don't want to know. Still, I didn't know you could cook." She curled her legs under her and closed her eyes. She was full of good food and protected in a way she had never experienced. It was almost surreal. And if she wasn't careful, she could get used to it.

"One of my many hidden talents," Reese remarked vaguely without going into specifics.

"Much better than shooting bad guys in the kneecaps," Joss concurred with a smile.

"And tastier."

"Much tastier," she chuckled in agreement.

"Thanks."

The room became silent as the pair sat and waited for the other to talk about something—anything.

Joss looked around the room. "So, uh, nice place you have," she complimented. It was tastefully furnished with expensive but useful furniture. It put what she had to shame, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't a little jealous.

"It was a birthday present," Reese replied so simply that he appeared humbled by the declaration. Looking around, he tried to see what she was seeing.

It was a loft, a huge room; it had four walls and a roof and kept out the rain; it did it's job, he reasoned, Other than a few times he needed to hide out and relax, he appreciated the gesture on Finch's behalf. But that was no reason to give it more credit than it deserved. If he had to be honest, he was envious of Joss' brownstone. Although considerably smaller than his loft, it had a cozy, lived in feeling about it. In a nutshell: It had a family.

"Damn! Can we trade days?" Joss joked. "All I got was a chocolate eclair with a candle and a gift certificate to the hair salon on my last birthday."

"I'm sorry," Reese apologized. "I was out of town and forgot..." He kicked himself for having forgotten her special day.

Joss held up her hand. "I'm not complaining. It was from Taylor, so it was worth more than gold, anyway. Still..." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "I do have another birthday coming up..." she hinted, none too subtly.

"I'll keep it in mind, Joss."

"So...uh...what do you do for entertainment?" she wondered. No music played. Not a sound anywhere—other than the sound of the couple's breathing. If this was his life, even she would have to admit that he needed to seriously liven things up.

Reese started to reply, but stopped. What _did_ he do for entertainment? He thought hard but came up empty.

"I'm usually not home during this time of the evening," he answered evasively and shifted his weight on the love seat. He didn't want to discuss him; he'd rather focus on her. But where did he start?

"I noticed you don't have a TV."

"Nothing is on that I want to watch," he deflected casually. He wasn't lying; there was nothing on TV worth watching.

"Or a DVD player."

"What are you getting at, Joss?" Reese asked.

"How do you entertain?"

"What do you mean?"

"When people come over?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she winced. Had she crossed the line?

A flicker of emotion crossed Reese's face before fading. "Other than the newspaper journalist who stayed for a night, no one comes over—save for Finch or Bear." Was that regret in his voice?

"Uh...Zoe?"

Reese shrugged. "No." How had offering to give Joss a place to stay become an interrogation on his home life? "You're the first."

Joss was surprised by the revelation. "Not even Fusco?"

"No."

"Wow."

"If you really want to know, on my free nights—which, up 'til now, were few and far between—I clean my weapons."

Joss tried to appear nonplussed. "You clean your...weapons?" _Was that plural?_ she wondered.

Reese stood up. "Come here." He walked over to the far side of the room toward the closet door. Joss uncurled herself and followed.

She eyed the door warily. There was no telling what could be on the other side, and if the last couple of years were any indicator, it could be anything. "What's that?"

"Open," he said and gestured toward the knob. He waited for Joss' gasp of horror. But it never came.

"Wow!" Joss breathed as she stepped into the small room filled with firearms of all types and sizes.

"You're not appalled?"

"I knew you had a collection...but... Wow!" In wonderment she touched the items. "Sweet." Drinking everything in, she stepped out of the room.

"You're not going to arrest me?" Reese challenged.

"I would if I were on the clock," she replied. "But I'm on leave until tomorrow morning, so...I guess I can let this go. For now. Although, that is a sweet nano you have."

"Thanks."

"But that still doesn't answer my question: What do you do to lighten your mood—other than cook and clean your arsenal?"

Reese shrugged. "I don't know."

"Do you like to watch movies?"

"I guess." Although he hadn't given movies much of a thought in the past ten years, he admitted to himself.

"Any favourites?" Joss probed to put him on the spot.

Reese tried to recall the last movie he had seen. It had been an avant garde film that Kara Staton had dragged him to while they were stationed in Paris. But he was sure Joss didn't want to know about that. She didn't look like the avant garde type. No, she looked like romantic comedies and Disney fairytales, he told himself.

"Uh...can't think of any."

"Action? Adventure? Thriller? Horror?" Joss fished for any information to help her learn more about The Man In The Suit.

"Do you want a refill?" Reese asked as he walked over to the coffee table and picked up Joss' half drunk glass of white wine.

"Come on, John. What do you like to watch?" Joss sighed. "Heh. Okay. I love to watch thrillers and horror movies; I love action movies where they blow shit up," she confessed. "Your turn."

"Would you like more dessert?"

Joss put her hands on her hips. "John..."

"Coffee?"

"John. What is your favourite movie?" she demanded in a mom tone that left no room for argument.

"'You've Got Mail'."

Joss had to pause before replying, "I didn't see that one coming."

Reese gathered up the glasses. "I need to wash these."

"I can get them."

"I got them, Joss."

"I can-"

"You've had a long couple of days," he pointed out a tad bit more sharp than he had intended.

Joss laid her hand on his arm and gave him a comforting pat. "Let me do something, John. If for no other reason than I want to feel useful."

"You're my guest," Reese protested. His eyes flicked down to where Joss' hand touched his flesh. He felt his heart skip a beat, but he didn't pull away.

"You've done so much already. But if you want, you can do dishes tomorrow," Joss conceded.

"Okay." Reese handed the glasses over. "I need to call Finch." Not really, he told himself, but he had to step away from her touch before he did something that would embarrass them both.

"When I'm done here, I'll call Taylor."

"I'll make sure I ask Finch to check on him."

Joss' eyes filled with happy tears. "Thanks, John." The smile she gave him was full of gratitude.

"You're welcome, Joss."

Joss turned around and turned on the tap to begin filling the sink with hot soapy water. Busy with the task, she didn't see Reese standing in the doorway watching her every move.

Quiet as a mouse, Reese watched Joss take control of his kitchen as though she had lived in it her entire life. A weird feeling started in the middle of his stomach and slowly began to fill him. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly he was feeling, but he decided he liked it.

"If you keep standing there watching me, John, I'm going to make you wash this frying pan," Joss' voice broke into his thoughts.

Joss turned around. Reese was gone.

"Just as I thought," she mused out loud and smiled enigmatically before returning her attention to the dishes.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Greatest Reward**

Reese pulled back the gate in the hallway of the library. A moment later Bear came running toward him, greeting with happy barks and a wagging tail. The happy yips bounced off the walls and echoed down the empty chambers.

"Good morning, Bear. It's good to see you, too." Reese gave a quick hug and a pat on the head. "Zit!" he commanded, and the dog obeyed. Although his tail swished from side to side with anticipation at a sweet reward that could be his.

From a small pink box, Reese pulled out a donut and held it up. "Is this what you want?" he asked rhetorically. Bear barked twice. "Here you go." In an instant, the tasty treat was devoured. Bear looked up with admiration and anticipation of more treats in his brown eyes. "That's all, boy. Where's Finch?"

Barking eagerly, Bear quickly trotted to lead the way down the long hallways. His nails made a click-clack on the marble floor.

"Good morning, Mr. Reese," Harold Finch greeted from his usual place behind the computer. Dressed impeccably in his three-piece suit and tie, he looked every bit the banker or successful Wall Street CEO, instead of the tortured billionaire on a mission to save irrelevant lives.

"Good morning, Finch. I brought breakfast," Reese greeted back and placed the items on the table. "Croquillants are in this box," he pointed at the medium sized pink box. "And here is your Sencha tea."

Finch took the take-away cup and sipped carefully. "Thank you. I take it Detective Carter is settled in?"

"Yes." Reese didn't elaborate, instead he took a donut out of the second box and bit into it. He hoped Finch would take the hint. The expensive pastry tasted like sawdust in his mouth, but it was better than talking.

"Are you sure this arrangement is a good idea?" Finch wondered a loud. There was a certain amount of underlying doubt in his voice. And in his eyes.

Reese stopped in mid-bite to throw a flummoxed look at his mentor. "What do you mean, Harold?"

"Well, you do have a decorated NYPD detective living in your loft," Finch pointed out matter of factly. He deliberately let the fact hang in the air as bait.

"I've taken care of things to insure she isn't compromised," Reese deflected without so much as a blink of an eye.

"I'm sure you have, Mr. Reese."

"But...?"

Finch lifted the lid on the small box and took out a pastry. He placed it on a little plate. "But nothing. I just want to make sure you are aware of the consequences." Okay, Finch thought to himself, it was time for another approach.

"I'm prepared."

"I'm sure you are," Finch murmured, but he wasn't convinced by his friend's assurance. There was still a little part of him that would never fully trust another human.

"What is on the agenda today?" Reese mercifully changed the subject.

"Nothing much." Finch moved over to the computer and sat down.

"Nothing much?" Reese repeated. "That's not like the Machine. Is it running okay? Maybe you should give it a tune up," he teased. It was a running joke between them, since all the maintenance Harold did from morning to night insured that the system was always in near perfect working order.

"I can assure you that the Machine is running perfectly well," Harold replied with just a touch of annoyance. He reached for a pastry, placed it on a china plate, but he didn't eat it.

"Are you saying that there aren't any numbers?"

"No. There were two. Ms. Shaw is taking care of them."

"Shaw is... Why didn't you call me?" Reese was hurt by the slight. And it flickered for a moment in his blue eyes.

Finch shrugged. "I felt that you have enough going on, what with Detective Carter moving in; you might need a day off."

"I thought you said the numbers never stop coming?" Reese countered.

"They always come, Mr. Reese; however, I'm sure that Ms. Shaw and Detective Fusco can take care of the ones we receive," Finch replied confidently.

Reese was confused. What was going on? And why was Harold acting cool as a cucumber despite numbers coming in? He tried to read the older man's face for any clues but came up empty.

"What's wrong, John?" Finch broke into Reese's thoughts.

"I'm a little confused. I thought you hired me to do a job."

"I did," Finch concurred. "I just think you need a vacation."

"Vacation?" A bit of panic filled him as he mulled the word over. _Vacation?!_ Had he ever really taken a vacation? Was he even capable of taking a vacation? he wondered to himself.

"I was going over the records, and I realized that you have been working three straight years without any time off."

Reese blinked in astonishment. "Records? You keep records–?"

"Even though the numbers keep coming in," Finch interrupted, "you have performed your job in an exemplary manner. However..."

"However?" Reese prompted and braced himself for what could come next.

"You have rarely taken any time off for yourself–"

"I haven't complained." Was that defiance in Reese's tone?

"And what kind of boss would I be if I didn't let you have a few days to yourself?" Finch continued as though Reese hadn't spoken.

"Days?"

"More like weeks." Finch walked over to the file cabinet and pulled open a drawer. Ruffling thru the manila folders he pulled out the one marked "JOHN REESE" on the tab. "Three weeks at..." He mentally calculated the hours his employee/friend usually worked in an average week. "Times that by..." He scribbled down a number. "Just as I thought."

"Finch, you're scaring me."

"Here." The bespectacled man thrust an envelope at Reese. "This should cover your time off. If you need anything else, the card inside should take care of it."

Reese opened the envelope and pulled out the cash. "Harold..." he protested. Cash? Vacation? Shaw was taking over his duties? What was going on? He felt his head begin spin—and this time alcohol had nothing to do with it. He was confused by it all.

"I believe that is a sufficient amount, Mr. Reese."

"Harold..."

Finch glanced down at the watch around his left wrist. "Your vacation started five minutes ago, Mr. Reese," he proffered

Reese sighed. "I am going to guess that I don't have any say in this?"

"You have a guest, and you have vacation days; take the time and enjoy both. Now go." Finch dismissed Reese with a nod and a wave of his hand. Bear barked to add his two cents.

Reese looked helpless. "What should I do?"

"Relax. Go to the beach. Read a book. Enjoy life." Finch turned his attention to the computer monitor. He appeared to be engrossed by the image on the screen so he didn't see Reese turn around and walk away. As the footsteps grew faint, then fade to silence, he stopped typing and leaned back in his office chair.

"Good luck, Mr. Reese," he said softly with a smile.

Bear barked in agreement.  
********

Joss walked into the bullpen of the 8th precinct and set her brown bag down on the desk. The folders in the IN box were still there from three days ago, and they were begging for attention. Now that her personal life was finally straightening out, she needed to get back to work.

"Good morning, Captain," Joss greeted as she slipped her coat off and hung it on the back of her chair.

The willowy brunette with her nose buried in a file, suddenly stopped and did a double take. "Carter?"

"Yes, ma'am." Joss found herself falling into officer mode and straightened her stature as she came to attention.

The captain closed the file. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Joss looked surprised and bewildered by the question. "Wh-what am I doing here? I don't know what you mean."

"You're on leave. I called and left you a message."

"Uh, no," Joss contradicted. The captain narrowed her eyes. "I-I meant to say that I'm not on leave, ma'am. At least not to my knowledge." Joss fumbled to open her phone. Immediately MISSED CALL flashed on the screen; underneath was the captain's name.

 _Oh, boy,_ Joss thought to herself. If ever she had been in a pickle, now was the moment. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for a dressing down.

"Well, the paperwork came across my desk first thing this morning and I signed it. You've officially been on leave since 8am this morning. Three weeks," the captain informed in a no nonsense tone that left no room for argument.

"My cases...my paperwork..." Joss argued weakly. Her mind began to spin. Leave? Vacation? Three weeks? What was she supposed to do with three weeks of leave?!

The captain appeared nonplussed. "Your partner can take care of it. If not, I'm sure the sub filling your shoes will be able to tackle it."

"But I –"

The captain stared unblinking at her subordinate. "But what, detective?" she challenged.

"I didn't know I had the time on the books," Joss made her case – albeit, a weak case.

"Obviously you do. Apparently you haven't take a day off in nearly five years—save for the undercover work out of town, and a sick day or two."

Joss looked at her desk, then at Fusco's. Where was her partner when she needed him? Why, oh, why had she decided to come in early?

"Look, Carter, I have a stack of paperwork on my desk a mile high, a meeting at noon with the Commish, a dental visit at three, and a ballet recital for my niece at six. And to top it off, I fell off the wagon with my nicotine patch," the captain listed in a precise and authoritative tone all the reasons she didn't want to stand around arguing over an asinine subject called leave. "I would suggest that if you want to get a good mark on your upcoming eval that you will gather your stuff and go home."

Joss opened her mouth to argue, then thought better of it. "Yes, ma'am."

"I heard you've had a bit of a pest problem."

Joss felt her cheeks burn hot. "It's under control."

"Bed bugs are serious, detective. Take the time and make sure that everything has been fumigated before you come back. I have enough going on without having to lose more personnel over insects, okay?" The captain's voice was kind but firm.

"Yes, ma'am," Joss tried not to sound defeated.

"Your son, Taylor, is vacationing in Europe for the summer?"

"Yes, he is," Joss nodded, surprised that the captain would familiarize herself with the police officers under her command.

"Take this time to yourself and relax. Crime will still be happening when you come back. I don't want to see you when I return. Understand?" With a smile, the captain walked out of the bullpen.

"I guess that's all I need to know," Joss muttered under her breath. She picked up the brown bag and coffee, walked over to Fusco's desk and set them down. "Someone may as well enjoy these." Then she hurried over to her desk to gather her coat and purse.

Turning on her heel, she started out of the room, then stopped and turned around. She hurried back and grabbed the styrofoam cup.

"Nah. You don't get my coffee."


	5. Chapter 5

**The Greatest Reward**

"What is the significance of the chair?" Reese asked out of the blue. Standing off to the side of the crowded New York City street, he kept a sharp eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Although he had taken secure measures to insure Lionel hadn't been followed from the precinct, he couldn't shake that bit of paranoia that always seemed to be with him.

Busy wolfing down his hot dog with chili and onions, Lionel stopped in mid-bite and looked up with confusion. "What chair?"

"The chair in Carter's place. Dusky rose coloured with a green background and cabbage roses on brocade cloth," Reese described the chair he had seen. It had been eating at him for a couple of days, and now he was determined to get the bottom of it.

"I'm not going to ask how you know interior design."

"Part of my field training," Reese deadpanned. "The chair, Lionel."

"Don't know what you're talking about." Lionel started to take a bite.

"No?"

Lionel shot Reese a look full of frustration. "No. Never seen it."

"Haven't you been to her house?"

"Haven't you?" Lionel challenged. "I have a feeling you've snuck inside more times than I can count," he threw back. With an eagle's eye, he noticed how his friend subtly shifted weight from one foot to another. "Heh. Just as I thought."

"I didn't say anything, Lionel."

"Yeah, Superman, you did. So, why do you want to know about the chair?" Lionel changed the subject.

"It's, uh, complicated."

Lionel pretended to act surprised. "Complicated? Coming from you?"

"Lionel."

"Give me a second. Here. Hold this." He didn't wait for any argument before thrusting the snack into Reese's hands. Then he began to intently pat down his sports coat and trousers.

"What are you doing, Lionel?"

Lionel looked confused. "I know it's here, somewhere."

"What?"

"My surprised face."

Reese tossed the food back at the detective. "Here. I have to go."

"Wait! Leaving? Aren't you on vacation?"

"Where did you hear that?" Reese challenged.

"I am a detective."

"Setting your goal a little high, aren't you?"

"Ha. Ha. Very funny. I guess since you won't be kneecapping the bad guys for a while, you're going to try your hand at comedy? And so you know, I took a wild guess." Lionel shrugged. "I figured since Carter is on vacation-"

"Carter is on vacation?"

"Yeah. What, you didn't know?" Lionel asked before taking a bite of his food. "Nice to know I finally got one up on you."

"When did this happen?"

"This morning. Captain said Carter is going to be on leave for the next three weeks. I guess budget cutbacks are forcing city employees to take any excessive leave left on the books." Lionel took another bite and shrugged. "It's that old 'use it or lose it' bullshit."

"Three weeks?" Reese echoed.

"Yeah. Which sucks for me because I have to finish my reports, and I have to work with Detective Bradley until she comes back," Lionel groused without attempting to conceal his real feelings. "Wait! Carter has to go on leave for three weeks; and you're on vacation for three weeks..." The wheels in his brain started turning. "What is going on?"

"Nothing."

"Liar. Where is Carter staying?"

"With me."

"With...? Is that wise?"

"Are you done with the interrogation?" Reese wondered. "I need you to help me with something."

"The chair," Lionel replied with his mouth full.

"Not that. Something else."  
*********

"Geez, Superman, you couldn't have gotten a smaller one?" Lionel panted breathlessly as he tried to keep one eye on the staircase and another on the large, widescreen television he held in both hands.

"I could have gotten the hundred and eight inch one," Reese replied in a mock comforting tone.

"Wow. Lucky me." Lionel winced. "Can we set this down for a moment?"

Reese looked around the narrow space of the stairwell. "Where are we going to put it?"

"Uh, we could have taken the elevator," Lionel pointed out smartly.

"Wouldn't fit."

"It would have had you bought the smaller model. Why didn't you get it delivered?"

"I need it today."

"Lucky me."

"I bought you lunch."

"Yeah." Lionel tried to catch his breath. "Usually when one person buys another person lunch it ends in a kiss, not carrying a large plasma screen TV up six flights of stairs."

"Sucks to be you."

Lionel cast a glance up and down the stairwell. "How many more flights?"

"One."

"I am going to need a massage when this is over."

"I bought you lunch, Lionel; not dinner."

"Sucks to be me." Lionel put more muscle into the chore. Two minutes later they were standing outside the large oak door. "Here we are. Wanna get the door, Boy Wonder?"

Carefully they set the TV down. Reese fished out the keys and unlocked the door. With some groaning and grunting, they carried the TV inside.

"What in the world?" Joss exclaimed as she walked into the living area and saw the two men carrying the box. "What is that?"

"A dead body Wonderboy needed to get rid of," Lionel answered tongue in cheek. Joss cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. "It's a TV. For you," Lionel amended. "Where do you want it?"

"A TV?" Joss repeated. "For me?"

"Merry Christmas. Where do you want it; 'cause it's getting heavy," Lionel grunted dramatically.

"Right there is fine."

Reese and Lionel set the box down and stepped back. "Whew!" Lionel blew out his breath and wiped his sleeve over his sweaty forehead. "Now that my job is done, I think I'm going to go."

"Do you want something to drink?" Joss offered.

"Nah. I'm good. I'm going to take a few Motrins and lie down. I'm not as young as I used to be," Lionel politely declined the offer.

"Thanks, Lionel," Reese said.

"Thanks, my ass. I got payback coming. Tell Glasses that I need that appointment with the massage therapist by Friday." And with that, Lionel turned on his heel and left the loft. The door soundly closed behind him.

"Is this for me?" Joss asked as she reached out and touched the large box. Her heart jumped at the thought of that possibility that someone would go out of their way to get her a present.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"You did," Joss confirmed. "I thought you didn't want a TV?"

"I said I didn't have a need for one. But I figured with you and I having the next three weeks off..."

Joss held up her hand. "Wait. Wait. _You_ have three weeks off?!"

"Vacation time. At least that's what Harold said."

"Strange," Joss murmured. "Very strange."

"What about you?" Reese asked.

"The Captain sent me home. Said I needed to take my leave now. At least I'm getting paid for it." Joss looked at the TV. "So...where should we put this?"  
*****

"That was fun," Joss laughed as she fell onto the couch. "I should have made Fusco stay."

Reese took his place on the love seat. "I think he would have said no."

"Probably." Joss rolled over but she didn't get up. "Do you have cable for this thing?"

"I'm pretty sure Harold included it in the package. Where's the remote?"

"Right here." Joss handed over the oblong remote. "What do you want to watch?"

"I don't know. What do you want to watch?" Reese returned.

"I'll tell you what: Let's go eat, then we'll find something to watch," Joss proposed.

"You cooked?" Reese couldn't hide the surprise in his voice.

Joss feigned offense at the question. "I can cook. At least well enough to satisfy Taylor's never ending appetite," she amended with a laugh.

Reese sniffed the air. His stomach rumbled in response.

"Why don't you go wash up and change, and I'll get everything ready?" Joss instructed.

"Joss..." Reese protested.

She placed her hands on her hips. "Don't 'Joss' me; go wash up. That's an order."

Reese gave a salute. "Yes, ma'am." With a twinkle in his eye, he did an about-face and headed toward the bedroom.

"Make sure you get under your nails," Joss called out.


	6. Chapter 6

_First and foremost, let me thank all of you for the kind words-and for reading. I can never say thank you enough. Now on to the new chapter. I borrowed a scene from one of my favourite episodes of "Remington Steele". It was so powerful that it's managed to stay with me for nearly 33 years. And I thought to myself "why can't I take it and work it to fit Joss and Reese?" I hope you enjoy._

* * *

 **The Greatest Reward**

Reese rolled over in the large full sized bed, stretched, and snuggled down into the pillow. Then he froze. Never a heavy sleeper by nature—and exacerbated by the military and CIA—his senses went on high alert at something out of place in the loft. What was that noise?

For a long moment he lay still as the thunderstorm outside rolled and rumbled with threats of a massive downpour. A minute later he could hear the pelting of big, fat raindrops hitting the double-pane windows as the storm rage and fought to get inside. But it failed. Shaking his head, Reese closed his eyes.

The sound happened again.

Reese sat up. He strained to hear what was making that noise. It sounded like two pieces of paper being rubbed together. What was it? The moment he heard it again, he knew. Someone was crying. That sound was sobbing.

He threw back the comforter and raced in the dark thru the loft to the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he found himself outside the bedroom door. Knocking once, he didn't wait for an invitation before turning the knob and hurrying inside.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark room, but the lightning from outside lit up the sky long enough to illuminate the figure sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed.

"Joss?" Reese asked softly.

"John, what are you doing here?" Joss sniffed, trying to hide the fact that she had been crying.

"Are you alright?" Reese started to reach out and touch her shoulder. He had to give her some kind of comfort.

"I-I'm okay," Joss assured, although her voice shook from the emotion she was holding back.

"I heard...something."

"It's-it's n-nothing. Nothing. You can go. I'm alright." They both knew she was lying.

"If you want to talk about it," Reese offered. He didn't want to push her, but he didn't want to leave her while she appeared to be in distress.

"Everything is gone," Joss whispered.

"Sweetheart..."

"Ev-everyth-thing is-is g-g-gone," Joss repeated and broke down into fresh sobs. Covering her face, she wept. "All gone. My things...gone." Her words were barely audible.

"Aw, sweetheart. Joss." Reese sat down on the side of the side of the bed. He opened his arms. "Come here," he offered and pulled her toward him so he could wrap her in his protective embrace. He held her, feeling the tears wet the front of his t-shirt. Outside and inside the loft, a storm raged. .

"I-I'm sorry," Joss apologized as tried to regain her composure. She touched the large wet spot on the material of Reese's t-shirt. "I got your shirt wet."

"I can wash it, Joss. It's no big deal," he comforted. "Is this about the chair?" Almost immediately he felt Joss shudder. "It's okay. It's okay." He rubbed a hand over her back to help relax her. "It is the chair."

"Y-yes," Joss admitted sadly.

"Talk to me," he invited.

"It was my grandmother's. She loved that chair. And every time we visited her, she would sit and hold me...and sing me songs. I can't count how many times I fell asleep in her arms while she would tell me a story," Joss said. Her voice was raw from tears. Reese stayed silent and listened.

"One night—I don't remember the why—but my parents had to go out of town, so I stayed with her. I was five, and a huge thunderstorm hit the area. I woke up crying and scared. Nana came in and tried to calm me down, but I was too frightened and I didn't hear her. She wrapped me in a blanket and carried me to the chair and sang to me until I calmed down. All I remember is her soft, sweet voice singing me a song—it was an Elvis song. My favourite." Joss wiped the tears with the back of her hand. "I never felt so safe. Even when I dumped my glass of red punch on it...she never yelled at me."

"You miss her." Reese knew that ache of a broken heart that never healed over the loss of a loved one.

Joss nodded. "She held Taylor in that chair. Her great-grandson."

"When did she die?"

"My first tour. I had just graduated college and received my commission—and my first duty station. I had just PCS'd to Hawaii and was setting up housing," Joss remembered sadly as though it had happened yesterday. "I tried to get home for the funeral...but...you know how those things work out. Taylor was still barely a toddler..."

Joss buried her face in Reese's shirt. "I didn't get to say good-bye," she confessed tearfully.

"But she left you the chair."

"She did. And I treasured it...and I took care of it...and I tried to love it..." Joss cried. "Then-then I had bed-bed..." She couldn't mention the name of the catastrophe that had been out of her hands and caused her heart to break.

"They're burning it, John. Tomorrow they are going to take it down to the incinerator and burn it. My memories, gone...all because of a damn bug. A damn stupid bug," she stated angrily and broke down.

"Let it out, Joss," Reese soothed. "Let it out, sweetheart." Then he wrapped his arms tighter around her, and held her until the tears stopped.  
****

Last night's storm was just nothing more than a memory as late morning sunshine poured thru the large kitchen windows to add a natural cheeriness to the tastefully decorated room. Over beside the stove Reese was busy whipping the eggs in a large dish so they could be poured in the greased frying pan. He glanced at the bacon frying and estimated he had another minute before he had to flip it. As he reached for the salt shaker, his ears picked up the soft shuffling of feet over the wood floor.

"Good morning, Joss," he greeted.

"Good morning, John. What time is it?"

"A little past nine."

"I never sleep past seven," Joss admitted with a wide yawn. Reese smiled. "Is there any coffee?" She returned his smile.

Reese set the bowl down. "I'll get you a cup."

"No. No." She waved him off. "I can get it." Joss walked over to the cupboard and pulled down a coffee mug. Taking her time, she filled the ceramic cup with the hot java, then added the creamer. "That's good," she complimented and sniffed the air. "That smells even better."

"Omelets." With tongs he moved the bacon from the griddle. He laid the crispy strips on the stack of paper towels to drain and cool down.

"Yum." With trembling hands, Joss brought the mug to her lips and sipped. The room was quiet, except for the sound of Reese preparing the meal.

"I-I am sorry for...losing my military bearing," Joss apologized. She lowered her chin to hide her embarrassment that The Man In The Suit had seen her at her lowest.

"You needed it."

"It was the storm. I don't usually...lose control."

"I know, Joss."

"Still..." Joss set the mug down on the counter of the island.

Reese set the spatula down and turned toward her. "Even the strongest person has stumbled while trying to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. You're human."

"You had better things to do than listen to my problems."

"I will always have time for you, Joss. Day or night." He covered her hand with his and gave a comforting squeeze. "Rain or shine."

Joss' chin quivered. "Thank you, John," she whispered. Her brown eyes shined with unshed tears. The rest was left unsaid.

Reese turned back to put the finishing touches on the omelets. He slid the eggs on to the plates and sprinkled them with cheese and diced tomatoes, and added a large dollop of sour cream on top, then set them on the island. He sat down to join her, and picked up his fork. But he didn't eat.

"I was thinking..." he began slowly, not sure how to approach the subject. Would she be angry that he had gone behind her back?

Joss cut off a corner of the omelet and forked it into her mouth. Raising her hand, she stop any further words as she closed her eyes and savoured the glorious taste of the most perfect omelet she had ever eaten. "Oh, this is heaven."

"You like it?"

"Like it?" she echoed in disbelief. "I may never leave if you make this every morning." Using her fork, she cut off a bigger portion. "Why hasn't some woman snatched you up?" she asked with her mouth full.

He didn't have an answer, besides, he assumed her question was rhetorical, so he changed the subject. "What do you have planned today?" he wondered.

Joss raised a shoulder, dropped it. "Rest. Put my feet up. Cherish my three weeks off...before I lose my mind by the end of the first," she listed with a small laugh. "Why?"

"I thought maybe you might want to go shopping. For a new wardrobe."

Joss swallowed quickly before replying. "Shopping? New wardrobe?"

"Well, I figured since you had to get rid of most of your clothes, you might want to replace them," he suggested.

Joss picked up the mug and turned it around in her hands. "That would be wonderful," she sighed, "but I don't have the money to buy everything now. Insurance doesn't cover...bug infestations." She sipped. "Now, had it been rats, flood, or lightning struck my bedroom...well, that would be covered—minus the five hundred dollar deductible." Her laugh was dry.

"It's on me."

Joss looked at him in surprise. "On you?"

Reese shrugged. "Finch. He sent over a little something this morning." He reached over for the envelope with her name on it, and handed it over. "Here."

Joss pulled out the letter. " _'_ _For your trouble. Have fun shopping, Detective. Finch_ '," she read a loud. She looked inside the envelope and fished out the credit card with her name on it. "This can't be..." A platinum American Express card? Was he serious?

"Finch wanted to give you an early birthday present."

Joss shook her head. "I...I can't. This is...too much. I don't deserve..." Her protest was halted by Reese leaning over to place his finger over her lips.

"Take it, Joss." His blue eyes were full of kindness and understanding for once he had been in her shoes. Hitting rock bottom was difficult, but he would help guide her back. If she let him.

"I can't, John." Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. "I can't pay him back."

Reese took her hand in his. "It's yours, Joss. Go shopping. Have fun. Get things you only imagined wearing, and spoil yourself," he said. "You deserve it."

"Okay," she conceded with a little reluctance. "Okay, John."

"Good. Now eat up," he ordered. "Zoe is going to be here in one hour."

"Zoe?"

"Thought you might like a girls' day out," he offered up a reason for going behind her back.

Joss thought, sighed. "I don't know, John..." She looked up and focused her gaze on him. "But if you make me one more of these omelets, I _might_ forgive you."

Relieved, Reese smiled. "Whatever you want, Joss. Your wish is my command."


	7. Chapter 7

_No bad guys, only bad bugs._

* * *

 **The Greatest Reward**

"Finch, I need you to do me a favour," Reese requested as he appeared—seemingly from nowhere—in the library. The look on his face was one of determination—and something else. Even Bear sensed that there was something different about his master, and came over to nudge Reese with his head.

Finch stopped typing on the keyboard and looked up. "I will do my best, Mister Reese. What do you need?"

"I want to find out where they took Carter's household goods."

Finch furrowed his brow at the request. "Where they took...? I don't understand."

"Joss mentioned something about how everything is going to be burned today," Reese remarked. His voice carried just a trace of anger and sadness.

"I'm not sure what I can do to help, but I will do my best," Finch hesitated. He wanted to get a little more information before he committed himself to some kind of flight of fancy his associate and friend seemed to be having.

"The chair."

"Chair?" Finch echoed stupidly.

"Her grandmother's chair is scheduled to be burned today, and I want to save it," Reese said earnestly.

"I see." Now it was making sense in his head. Finch nodded. "I'm not sure it's possible."

"Anything is possible, Harold," Reese snapped. He had racked his brain for hours trying to figure out a plan to repair and fix Joss' broken heart. This was the only way to right a terrible wrong.

"It's full of bugs," Finch stated the cold hard fact.

"It can be fumigated," Reese argued. "It can be saved."

"It rained last night. It might be ruined."

Reese's expression hardened. "If you don't want to help, Harold, I understand. I can do this on my own." He grabbed his suit coat and pulled it on.

"John." Finch stood up to try and stop the angry man from leaving. "I want to help. And I am willing to do what I can to help you and Detective Carter," he said earnestly. "However, I want you to understand that there are going to be problems—problems that may not be easily rectified or corrected."

Reese stopped, turned around. There was a pained look on his face. "Nothing is impossible, Finch. We have proven that countless times."

"True, but saving lives is entirely different than saving furniture," Finch replied with inarguable logic.

Reese considered what his mentor was saying, but he could feel the pain of Joss' loss pierce his heart. It may have been his fault that bugs invaded her home, and now he had to right that wrong. First, his best friend didn't want to help him; and second, if he was able to locate the chair, in what condition would it be? Damn the rain.

Reese closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm trying to save her memories," he said simply.

Finch took all of one second to consider the remark before sitting down at the computer. His fingers entered information into the New York Waste Management database at lightning speed. His eyes never left the monitor screen.

"You're in luck, Mister Reese," Finch spoke up to break the quiet. "I have located Detective Carter's furniture... At least, a part of it," he amended.

Reese perked up at the revelation of information. He hurried over to look at what had been found. "What do you mean 'part'?"

"Apparently the moving company took some of the items to one area, and because they were over the limit, they took the rest somewhere else."

"Where?"

"I'm sending the coordinates to your phone."

A moment later Reese's phone beeped. He looked down at the address. "I'm on my way. Could you get-"

"I'm sending the other coordinates to Detective Fusco."

"Thank you, Finch." Reese's feet barely touched the marble floor as he hurried out of the library to the dump.  
*******

"I'm sorry, Detective," the pretty, petite blonde apologized, "but I can find no record of any furniture arriving." She closed the drawer to the tall cabinet and walked back to her desk.

"I was informed that the delivery of furniture was made two days ago," Reese said, giving her a charming smile. She smiled back.

"If I knew what you were looking for..." she prompted coyly.

"A piece of furniture—a chair, to be exact. It...could be useful in an on going investigation," Reese supplied the bogus information. Perhaps if he let her believe she could be part of the quest, she might be a little more helpful. "I have the Bill of Lading here." He handed the shipping receipt to her.

"I see. Tell you what. Let me call Chuck. If anyone will know anything about any deliveries, it will be him." She picked up the phone receiver and dialed an extension. "Chuck, it's Allison. I have a police officer here looking for a chair that was supposed to have arrived two days ago; says it's important; part of an investigation... Yeah, I have a BOL number: NYC784-1223-6958A." \

She waited while the number was looked up.

"It was?... All of it?... I see... Okay, I'll tell him," Allison replied, hanging up the receiver. She tried to put on a happy face before saying, "It was destroyed."

Reese felt his stomach fall to his knees. "All of it?"

Allison gave him a sympathetic look. "All of it. I'm sorry. He said that it was infested with bedbugs and needed to be destroyed immediately."

"Thank you." Reese turned on his heel to leave.

"This isn't going to hinder your investigation, is it?" Allison wondered, concerned laced her voice.

"I don't know." Reese pulled open the door.

"Have a good day, Detective."

Reese's only response was closing the door behind him.  
*****

"No luck here, either, Superman," Fusco revealed over the phone. "I think I may have found something, but it wasn't a chair." Three hours of traipsing thru rotten garbage and God only knew what, had left the portly detective exhausted and in a foul mood - not to mention he was going to have to burn his clothes when he got home. And nothing was accomplished. There wasn't enough soap in the world to wash away the stench.

"Lionel-" Reese wasn't in the mood to play games.

"And before you ask how hard I tried, I'll let you know that ruined my best pair of shoes and my suit; I walked four acres of garbage trying to find that chair," Lionel growled. He sighed, dejected that he had failed in his mission. "It's not here. What are you going to do now?"

"I'll think of something. Thanks, Lionel." Reese disconnected the call. The chair was gone, and he was too late to save it. At least Joss would never hear it from him. But somehow he needed to make it up to her—help take her mind off of her sorrow. Zoe was helping some, but he had to think of another way to heal her heart.

He pressed the coded button on his phone.

"Yes, Mr. Reese?" Finch greeted from the other end.

"We failed."

"I heard. I'm sorry." And he was genuinely sorry that things had fallen through.

"I still need your help, Harold."

Intrigued, Finch raised his eyebrows. "What do you have in mind?"  
********

It had been a long morning of hitting dozens of stores and trying on more outfits than she could count. Up and down the streets of New York City, the two women had traipsed—their arms filled with packages and bags—until their feet begged for mercy. Now they sat in a well established delicatessen and took the moment to relax and recharge.

"Thanks for going shopping with me," Joss said before taking a bite of her overloaded club sandwich. She closed her eyes and savoured the tenderly cooked meats. Although she had devoured a large breakfast, the constant running around the streets of Manhattan had left her famished.

"You're welcome, Joss." Zoe took a long sip of the iced tea. "I'm sorry to hear what happened."

Joss gave a little smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Me too." Her heart squeezed painfully, then she remembered the feel of Reese's arms around her, holding her, protecting her, as he gave her comfort.

"It is nice of Harold to help out," Zoe observed.

"It is," Joss agreed. A part of her was still a little apprehensive over Finch granting her carte blanche with a credit card, but she was beginning to relax—a little. Still, it surprised her that anyone could be altruistic.

"And then having John help out by giving you a place to stay..." Zoe let the suggestion trail off and hang in the air.

Joss pretended to be interested in the toothpick holding her sandwich triangle together. "It's only temporary," she dismissed any possible innuendo.

"Maybe." Zoe used her fork to poke around the salad and move the cherry tomatoes, but she didn't eat. Her curiosity was peaked by the actions of her one time flame and mutual friend John Reese.

"It's only for a couple of weeks. Kenny said that the fumigation process should be done by then."

"So, why three weeks?" Was Joss squirming? Zoe's sharp eye almost missed the way the usually cool detective shifted in her chair. Inside she smiled. Oh, yes, Joss had reacted. _This_ _i_ _s going to be fun_ , she thought to herself.

"The third week is for everything to settle and make sure that I can go back. Plus, I need to fumigate the things that I managed to salvage."

"I'm sure John would help."

"Oh, no," Joss argued. "I would never put him out any more than I already have. Besides...he has you," she pointed out. Zoe laughed.

"No. I don't have John, and he definitely doesn't have me. We're...friends. Nothing more—nothing less." Basically the truth, but she wasn't going to go into detail with Joss Carter.

"Oh." Had Joss read the situation wrong? She was almost sure there had been something between her mutual friends, but her instincts had been a little hinky because of her lack of sleep. "I thought..."

"He's a nice guy, good to have on your side in times of trouble; but he isn't, and we aren't. His eye is somewhere else." Zoe focused her gaze on Joss.

Before Joss could reply, Zoe's phone vibrated. She glanced down at the text.

"Well, speak of the little blue-eyed devil," she breathed. "He wants to know what time we're coming back." Her fingers flew over the tiny letters to quickly respond. A few moments later the phone vibrated again. She texted her response, then pocketed the phone.

"That should satisfy him for a while."

"What?"

"I told him that we were having lunch and still had a little more shopping to do; I will have you home by six," Zoe promised. "Let's finish lunch and then hit that little boutique down the street. I remember seeing the cutest little dress there—definitely your style." She smiled enigmatically. "Something tells me you might be needing it."


	8. Chapter 8

**The Greatest Reward**

"Hi, Mom!" Taylor greeted happily. His voice was so clear Joss thought he might be standing in the room with her. She turned around to look for him.

"Taylor," Joss sighed as she down on the bed. All day, a part of her craved to hear her only child's voice. Now he was on the line. She could begin to relax—a little. "How's France?" she asked.

"Awesome! The Eiffel Tower is...wow! And the women-"

"Taylor!" Joss admonished.

"Sorry. They are hot, though. We went to the Champs Elysees and the Seine," Taylor listed off the day's adventures.

A little pang of jealousy shot thru Joss. "Sounds nice." She had always wanted to see Great Britain and Europe. At least Taylor was making memories to last a lifetime.

"And the food... Ah, Ma, you would love it here. The pastries and the coffee... You would kill for the coffee."

Joss sighed. "That sounds nice."

"What's wrong? You sound different," Taylor observed. He wasn't sure, but he swore he could hear sadness in his mother's voice. "Is everything okay?"

Joss ran a weary hand across her brow. It had been a long week and a half, and although things seemed to be moving along, she felt stuck in one place. She was used to pounding the pavement and getting information from her CI's and trying to stop a crime before it happened. She missed the secret 'cloak and dagger' missions Finch sent her and Fusco on. In a nutshell: she missed her life.

"It's been a long day. I went shopping for some new clothes," she revealed part of the truth.

"You went clothes shopping? Are you sure you're my mom?" Taylor teased.

"I shop for clothes, T," Joss tried not sound offended by the accusation.

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Work clothes. Tell me you got something sexy."

"Taylor! I am still your mother," Joss admonished sharply. Besides, what did her teenage son know about sexy clothing? A part of her wanted to send him to his room for a week—until the logical part reminded her that he was all grown up and on his way to college in the fall. She wanted to cry.

"And single. And pretty—for a mom."

"Thanks, T."

"You stay cooped up too much. You should get out; go to a club. I mean, you are off for three weeks, so take advantage of it."

"I...might." But where would she go? What would she do?

"Do it. How's your roommate working out?"

Joss shrugged. How was she supposed to answer that without dumping on her son?

"It's going okay."

"Have him take you out," Taylor suggested. "Or maybe take him out. Or go dutch; I heard that's the 'in' thing again."

Joss curled her hand into the comforter. "Taylor, I don't think-"

"Yeah. I have to go, Mom. This call is going to cost you a bunch of money, and I have to meet my friends for dinner. I'll call you tomorrow night."

"I love you, T."

"Love you too, Mom. I'll send you a postcard." The call was ended, and Joss sat and stared at the phone in her hands. Her little boy was all grown up and traipsing across Europe with friends; he was seeing sights she had only dreamt of; and he was doing it all without her holding his hand. When had he gone from a little baby knocking things off the coffee table, to a confident young man? A man who was giving _her_ life advice?

Ever since bugs had invaded her home, her life had been upside-down/inside-out. Her son was overseas, her items were gone, and she was living with a wanted man. Could life get any crazier? Maybe she could take a long bath, then put on the new pajamas and robe, and sit in front of the boob tube and veg out until dawn. Now that was a plan!

There was a knock on her door.

"Come in," she invited. Reese stepped into the room. "Hey, John."

"How's Taylor?"

"Having a ball. He's in France," Joss relayed the information. She shouldn't be jealous, but she was. Horribly, childishly, sinfully jealous of her son. "He's seen the Eiffel Tower and is going to send me a postcard." She stood up and started to pull boxes out of the bags.

"So it's going to cost me a fortune," she continued, "but these are memories he's going to be able to treasure for the rest of his life. And I'm happy for him." Truly, she was, more than she could say.

"I'm sorry." Reese tried to comfort, but he was at a loss for words.

"No, honestly, I'm happy for him." But her heart still ached to have her baby nearby. Maybe if she focused on putting away her new clothes, she could take her mind off of Taylor's suggestion to ask her 'roommate' out. Walking past Reese to the closet, she felt her knees go weak as the light, seductive scent of his cologne filled her nose. She was thankful to have the knob to hold on to.

"What are you doing tonight?" Reese asked out of the blue.

Joss hung the clothes on the rod and turned around. "What am I doing tonight?" she repeated. "Why?"

"I thought maybe you might want to go out...to dinner. Or dancing," he offered up the suggestions to her.

"Dinner? Dancing?" she echoed. Was he serious? Had he forgotten that he was a wanted man in Manhattan? Had he forgotten that she was an NYPD detective? "With you?"

"Why not? I'm sure you have to have something in that pile of boxes appropriate for a night on the town." He nodded at the pile of boxes and bags littering Joss' bed and the floor.

"I might have something," Joss hedged. She studied his eyes, trying to look for anything that might give her a clue to what he had up his sleeve.

"Can you be ready in half an hour?" he asked.

"Probably...why?"

"I'll see you then." With a twinkle in his eye, he turned on his heel and left the room. He closed the door silently behind him.

Alone, in the middle of the room, Joss stood stupefied by what had just occurred. She started to call out after him, then closed her mouth.

 _You should get out; go to a club._

Maybe Taylor had a point. She needed to kick up her heels—and if John Reese was willing to risk getting arrested on her behalf, then what the hell? She was game.

Grabbing the long white box embossed with gold lettering, she opened it and pulled out the sleek, black cocktail dress. It was conservative enough to go to dinner, and just this side of daring to be the center of attention out on the dance floor. Maybe her dance card would be full by the end of the night.

Holding the dress up against her as she looked in the full length mirror, she blew herself a kiss.

"You're gonna knock them dead, Joss," she promised.  
*******

Joss walked down the stairs to the main room. Her heels made a click-clack sound on the wood floor.

"Well?" she asked and gave a twirl. "Is this appropriate for a night out on the town?"

Reese nearly swallowed his tongue as he drank in the lovely image of the woman standing before him. Before he could help himself, his eyes traveled the length of her body from head to toe. Her dark hair was pile on her head and held in place with a rhinestone clip. A light shawl hid the spaghetti straps and covered her well-toned shoulders. The black dress clung to every single curve of her body from her breasts to her hips. The skirt flared out to end just above her knees—knees that were connected to long legs that ended in slick, black heels.

"Huh? What?"

"The dress. Is it okay?"

"It's more than okay," he assured quickly. "It's...nice." It was more than nice. And that perfume she was wearing was going to bring him to his knees. He needed a drink.

"Heh. Speaking of nice, you clean up good." Joss took in John Reese dressed conservatively in a tailor made suit and tie. The jacket emphasized his broad shoulders but down played his athletic physique. The legs of his slacks seemed to go on forever, to end in high polished dress shoes. The bright blue tie matched his eyes. She felt her heart inexplicably pick up speed.

The pair stood in an awkward silence. Each waiting for the other to speak.

"What time is our reservation?" Joss asked.

Reese looked at his watch. "We should go."

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"A surprise?" Joss chuckled softly. "After the week I've had...heh...I don't think even you can surprise me anymore."

Reese's smile was his only response.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Greatest Reward**

The flight attendant parted the curtain and stepped into the luxurious cabin. In her left hand she held a bottle of champagne; in the other she held a large manila envelope.

"We've reached our cruising altitude," she informed in a precise and professional tone. "The pilot wants me to inform you that we will be landing in Atlantic City in thirty minutes. The car will be waiting for you."

"Thank you," Reese said with a charming smile.

"Your hotel reservations have been made at the Borgata. You and Ms. Carter have rooms on the fortieth floor—overlooking the ocean," she add with a smile. "Your reservations are for nine at the comedy club with a table in the VIP section. Jeff Dunham will be performing." She handed Reese the envelope. "Your passes and itinerary are in here. And your car is waiting at the airport."

Reese took the envelope but didn't open it. "I'm sure it is." And with Finch running things on his end, he was more than sure that not even the slightest detail would be overlooked.

"Champagne?" the pretty brunette offered. Reese nodded. Quickly the attendant filled the glasses. "Will there be anything else?"

Reese shook his head. "We're fine. Thank you."

"I'll leave the bottle." With a charming smile, the attendant turned on her heel and left the cabin. Joss passed her on the way out of the lavatory. On steady feet she walked over to where Reese sat, and took the seat opposite.

"For me?" She nodded toward the glass.

"Yes."

"Champagne, a private jet, Atlantic City...?" Joss breathed in surprise. She brought the crystal flute to her lips, sipped, then leaned back against the expensive upholstery. She looked around at the posh cabin and took in the expensive details. Never had she felt so pampered and spoiled. She could get used to this.

"Okay, I lied. You surprised me."

Reese leaned back against the seat. A smile tugged at his lips. "I knew I could."

"Cocky."

"You wouldn't have me any other way, Detective," Reese replied smoothly with a smile.

Joss chuckled. "Maybe. Though I have to admit, when you decide to take a girl out for a night on the town, you don't mess around."

"I wanted to do something nice for you, Joss," Reese explained. "And this is my way of thanking you for not handcuffing me and tossing me in the back of your cruiser." He threw her a wink, taking pleasure in the way she ducked her chin and lowered her gaze.

"I still might...after I've enjoyed this." She twirled the bubbly around in the crystal flute.

"So, you like it?" Reese wondered.

"The answer is yes. Nobody has ever whisked me away in a private jet before," she said with a laugh. She reached out and touched the seat again to make sure she wasn't dreaming. "I feel like Julia Roberts in 'Pretty Woman'."

"Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but we are not going to the opera," Reese quipped playfully. At least he hoped his bespectacled friend hadn't slipped in reservations to the metropolitan opera house.

Her eyes danced with mischief. "I'm impressed, John. You know your movies."

"I did have a life before the Army and the CIA," he defended. _A lifetime ago,_ he added silently.

"Well, if it brings you any comfort, I'm not much for listening to cats in a blender. And honestly, I don't care if we land on the tarmac and turn back around; this is heaven," she purred.

"You deserve only the best, Joss."

"Shopping, flying on a private jet, and then pampering me with expensive champagne—which, is the best I've ever tasted." She finished her glass and extended it for a refill.

"More? You don't want to get tipsy before we land," Reese warned before he refilled the glass. He topped his off, too.

"Trust me, John, it's going to take more than this bottle to get me tipsy." She closed her eyes and let the fragrant bubbly roll over her tongue. "I can only imagine what Finch has planned for us next."  
******

"Oh... This is beautiful," Joss breathed as she looked around the luxurious but tastefully decorated room. "This is ours?" She stepped over to the large bay windows to look as the ocean crashed against the rocks—illuminated by the soft moonlight.

"This is yours," Reese corrected. "I have the room next door." He laid the key card down on the counter of the small bar.

Joss raised her eyebrow in question. "Really?" Maybe it was because of the busy day and last minute events, or maybe it was because it was three a.m. and she had just danced part of the night away, but she wasn't sure how to feel by the revelation.

Reese held up two fingers. "Scout's honour."

She giggled. "Somehow I can't see you as a Boy Scout." Maybe it was because her brain was too foggy from lack of sleep, but she couldn't picture a young John Reese in a Boy Scout uniform. But she was positive he had driven the girls wild, even then.

"Well, Detective Carter, that's when I realized women love men in uniform," Reese replied saucily.

"I can say you haven't done too badly in a suit, either," she replied back just as saucily. She walked around the room, gently touching the objet d'arts, the bouquets of flowers. "I can't believe I'm here. Dinner. A sold-out show. Dancing... Somebody pinch me."

"Wouldn't that be assaulting a police officer?" Reese teased. He had watched her every move all night, and had caught a bit of her enthusiasm. Finch has gone above and beyond what he had originally requested. He owed his friend.

"On second thought, I'd rather keep dreaming," Joss sighed. This was almost too good to be true, she thought to herself. What ever jealousy she may have had toward Taylor went out the window. "I'd rather have this than Paris," she declared, sitting down on the overstuffed couch.

"Oooh... I want to get one of these," she sighed as the couch formed to fit around her. "This is...like a cloud. John, can you get me a drink?"

"More champagne?"

"Mmmm...I'll have what you're having." Joss leaned back against the cushions and closed her eyes.

Reese picked up the decanters, examining each one carefully. "Scotch on the rocks?" he suggested.

"Sure." A huge yawn overwhelmed her.

Popping the lid, Reese carefully poured two fingers in each glass. He felt—well, he couldn't put his finger on what exactly he was feeling since it was all new to him—but he liked it. Okay, so he had felt something for Jessica, but could he have called it love? Had it been love? Whatever it had been, it was nothing compared to what he was experiencing right now, right at this moment. It scared and thrilled him at the same time.

His hands shook ever so slightly as he replaced the crystal cork.

"Joss..." he began slowly, unsure where to start. "I hope you don't mind that I went behind your back. I know you've been feeling...displaced since the bedbugs...and Taylor going away. I wanted to do something special for you. I know it's not what you would expect from me, but it's the thought that counts. And I hope you had fun tonight..."

He turned around, his words stopping as he looked at the woman fast asleep on the couch.

"Joss?" he called out softly. Her only response was light snoring. Reese placed the glasses on the counter. "I guess that answers that."

Walking over to the couch, he lightly shook Joss' shoulder. "Joss?" He sighed. "Yeah, I guess you have the right idea." Pulling her into his arms, he picked her up and cradled her to his body. Ever so gently he carried her to the bedroom to lay her on the double-sized bed. He removed her shoes, setting them on the floor near the bed.

He took a long moment, his eyes gazing on her sleeping features. Ever so carefully, he brushed the lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"Sweet dreams, sweetheart," he whispered softly. He tip-toed to the door—throwing back one last glance at the woman snuggled deep under the covers—then he closed the door quietly behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Greatest Reward**

Joss stretched and groaned, trying to force the blood to flow. If she could have it her way, she would have stayed in bed for at least a week. But the bright sunlight filtered thru the windows and forced her back to consciousness.

Swinging her legs over the side of the mattress, she ran a hand over her eyes. _What time is it?_ She looked at the watch on her wrist. 10 a.m. Ugh! Another morning she managed to sleep away. What was going on with her? In her entire life she had never been so lazy—and a little part of her liked it.

A familiar scent tickled her nose. Her stomach rumbled angrily. She should eat—but first she needed to take a shower and then take care of whatever had died on her tongue. Grabbing a robe, she headed toward the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later she emerged from the shower feeling refreshed and rejuvenated and ready to take on the world—as long as the world was contained within the four walls of her hotel room since she had no other clothing but the dress to wear.

Drying her hair, her stomach rumbled again. There was no putting off eating. She tightened the belt on her robe and opened the bedroom door.

"Good morning," she greeted as she walked into the main room. She glanced at the dining table covered in silver trays and elegant dinnerware.

"Good morning, Joss. I was just getting ready to check on you," Reese said and stood up. He walked over and pulled out a chair for her.

"Thanks. This is the second time in two days I've slept in," Joss groused as though she had committed a huge sin.

"Well, you did dance until three, so, it's not really sleeping in," Reese corrected her statement.

"Smart ass." Joss gave a nod toward the trays. "What's on the menu?"

"A little of everything. I wasn't sure what you liked—other than cream cheese on a bagel—so I ordered a few things."

Joss sat down. "Room service. I am going to get spoiled."

"And that is a bad thing?" Reese commented as he took the chair next to her. "Coffee?" He lifted the carafe and poured two cups of the hot java. He handed one over to Joss.

"Yes. Thank you." Joss took the cup and saucer, sniffing the aromatic scent of expensive beans finely ground to perfection, then sipped the scalding hot liquid. Heaven! "I wouldn't know, since it's never happened before. Not that I would have let it," she added. She lifted the lid of the first tray.

"Oooo, a Denver omelet." She grabbed a fork and dug in.

"How is it?" Reese asked.

"Good. Not as good as yours, but I'll eat it."

With an enigmatic smile, Reese sipped on his coffee as he watched Joss eat.

"What about you?" Joss asked with her mouth full.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to eat?"

"I'm not hungry." Truth be told, he would much rather watch her than eat. But he wouldn't tell her that; she was still armed.

"Eat," she ordered.

"Joss."

"John. Don't make me call room service and have them deliver a pair of handcuffs," she stated firmly.

"Well...when you put it that way, Officer Carter." Reese lifted the lid of the second tray and began to eat.

"What's on the agenda?" Joss wondered.

"Since we have the hotel for a couple of days, I was thinking a little sight-seeing—maybe a trip down to the pier," Reese suggested.

"Well, that would be wonderful, John. However, I don't have anything to wear. I could go in my little black dress, but I don't think my heels are up for the boardwalk. And I'm pretty sure that as liberal as AC may be, they might frown on me traipsing around town in a bathrobe."

"I think it's cute."

"You would since you only have to remove your tie and go back to being The Man In The Suit. Tell you what, you get the robe and I'll take the suit," she purred. Her eyes snapped with mischief and defiance.

"Touche, Joss."

"Besides, I might want to sit around the hotel and be waited on hand and foot. Maybe catch a few rays on that glorious balcony."

Reese raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Which I have to nix since I don't have a swimsuit."

"You could."

"Sure, John." Joss buttered a slice of toast, adding the strawberry preserves, then took a bite. "All of my clothes are in Manhattan—at your place," she reminded him.

"You still have the card Harold gave you," he reminded her.

Joss set the fork down. "About that... I don't know if I should. He's already been more than generous, and I don't want to take advantage of it."

"I'm sure he won't mind since he did send you out of town without any extra clothing at your disposal," Reese reasoned logically.

"How am I supposed to pay him back?" Joss argued. She had been doing the math in her head, and there was no way she could begin to pay back her mutual friends—unless she took out a loan; there was no way she was going to abuse their generosity.

"Let me worry about it."

"John, I can't," she protested. "The TV, the shopping trip, this..." The phone vibrated. Reese picked it up.

"It's for you," he said, handing the phone over.

Joss looked at the screen: _Go get the clothes, Detective._ She sighed.

"That's creepy." She handed the phone back over. "I guess that settles that. I'm not going to get many," she decided. "Just two. One to go out today, and one to return to Manhattan in."

"Okay."

Joss gave him a hesitant look. "You're not going to argue with me?"

Reese shrugged. "No need. Your mind is made up."

"You have something up your sleeve, and I'm going to find out what it is," she vowed.

"I'm sure you will, Joss," Reese murmured.

"But first I want to finish this delicious breakfast."  
********

Reese looked at the equipment and heard the sounds of delighted shrieks and frightful screaming coming from inside the compound. He thought the little shopping spree had been torture, but no training could prepare him for what he was about to walk into.

"Amusement Park?" he asked.

Joss grabbed his hand. "Come on." She tried to drag him but he held his ground. "What?"

"I'm not sure." And he wasn't. He had never been into crowds and loud noises; he liked it quiet and subdued.

"Don't tell me you don't like rides and cotton candy and winning prizes?" She was stupefied by his hesitancy.

Reese rubbed his shoulder to help lessen the tension that was building in his muscles. He wondered if it wasn't too late to call 'do over' and head back to the hotel. After all, Joss had to be exhausted—what with the hectic activities of the past two days. He would even be willing to pay for the taxi ride back.

"It's not that I don't like them..." he fibbed. "I just don't care for them."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I don't believe it." She tugged harder on his arm. "Come on. Let's go have fun. Wasn't it you who told me to let my hair down?" she threw his words back at him. "A couple of hours, that's all."

"Joss..."

"Tell you what: you can practice your shooting skill by getting me the teddy bear," she offered. The thought did appeal to him.

"Okay, you win, Joss," he conceded.

Joss walked over to the booth and slapped some money on the counter. She waited for her change, and grabbed the stack of tickets. She handed some to Reese.

"Here."

Reese looked down at the long strand of tickets. "How long are we going to be here?"

"Use those first, then we'll see. You don't know, John, but you might surprise yourself."  
*******

"That one over there." Joss pointed to the large, sad looking giraffe hanging by itself in the corner of the booth.

"I don't know, Joss. Where are we going to put it?" Reese wondered.

"I can carry it," she argued. "I want the giraffe."

"You have a lion, a tiger, and a bear," he pointed out.

"And I need a giraffe so I can finish out my zoo."

"Zoo?"

"Getting rid of everything made me realize that I need to make-over my brownstone. With Taylor leaving for college in the fall, I will have a free room to decorate."

"Some women turn spare rooms into sitting rooms or sewing rooms."

"I'm not 'some women'," Joss shot back.

"That's for sure," he mused with a smile.

"So, are you going to win it for me, or am I going to have to do it myself?" she challenged in a tone that let him know that she would put her hands on her hips—if she could. "Because I don't want to embarrass you in front of everyone here."

"Are you saying that you're a better shot, Detective?" Reese's eyes danced with amusement.

"I've nailed my share of bad guys. And all I had was my puny little service weapon."

"Ouch!" Reese grimaced. "Okay. Have at it." He handed the toy water pistol to Joss.

Joss looked at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"Time to put your money where your mouth is." He slapped the tickets on the counter. "I'll make you a deal: If you win, I'll carry your menagerie," he offered.

"And if I lose?"

"We do what I want for the remainder of the day."

"Okay." Joss set the stuffed animals on the counter and took her stance on the line on the ground. She lined her target. "Get ready to carry."

"Whatever you say, Detective." Reese took aim.

The bell sounded.  
*****

"How in the world did we tie?" Joss asked in wonderment as she and Reese made their way thru the crowd of people.

"Good question. I don't know." In his arms he carried five stuffed animals. "Apparently the guy running the game doesn't know, either." It had been a first, and they had been rewarded generously.

"We should have done a two out of three."

"We did a three out of five," he reminded her. Joss laughed out loud.

"We did, didn't we? We can go back..."

"We don't have that many arms, Joss. But since we tied—which is a win for both of us..."

"Is not!"

"Yes, it is."

"I won the giraffe."

"And I won the right to do what I want."

"Which is...?"

Reese nodded to his right. "That."

Joss turned to look at the enormous ferris wheel. Her eyes widened in fear. "Oh, no." She shook her head.

"What's wrong?"

"Ain't happenin', John. Uh uh. No way." Unconsciously she took a step back.

"What do you mean? My win, my choice."

"I'm going to go get a corn dog."

"Are you saying that you're afraid of a ferris wheel?" he asked in surprise at her reaction. Of all her kick-ass ability and attitude, he never could have imagined that she was afraid of an amusement ride.

"I'm not afraid," she contradicted, but didn't meet his eyes. "I just don't like them."

"There's nothing to be afraid of—you get on, go around, get off. Simple."

"Tell you what: you get on, go around, get off."

"Come on, Joss."

"What if I promise to hold your hand?" he offered. His eyes were kind, his voice gentle and understanding.

Joss swallowed hard. She felt the fear she had buried so deep down inside start to bubble to the surface. She wanted to turn around and run away. But then she looked into Reese's eyes, and she felt the calm in the storm.

Taking a deep breath, she slipped her hand into his. Her smile was a little shaky, but her determination to overcome her fear was strong.

"Okay, let's do this."


	11. Chapter 11

**The Greatest Reward**

"You look a little green, John," Joss remarked as she took a bite of the oversized cotton candy on the paper cone. After the last ride her appetite had returned with a vengeance. Reese, on the other hand, didn't care if he ever saw food again.

"I'm fine," he replied evenly and swallowed to quell the roil of his stomach. Maybe breakfast hadn't been such a good idea.

"Bite?" Joss extended the treat toward Reese who shook his head.

"No, thanks."

"It might help."

"A box of Dramamine and some sleep sound better." It was taking all of his CIA training to maintain the cool and calm appearance in front of Joss. Obviously it was working.

"I think we ought to go for one more round," Joss suggested.

Okay, maybe it was working a little too well.

"No more rides." Reese took her hand, tugging her over to the empty bench. "I need a moment to relax. Who would have thought I could create a monster," he said, sitting down. Now if only he could get the world to stop turning.

"Well, you did get me over my fear of heights."

"Two ferris wheel rides and all the roller coasters, Joss... I think you're cured." He took a deep breath. "I think I liked it when I had to drag you on to the ferris wheel."

"You didn't drag me," she contradicted. "I went willingly."

"Sure you did, Joss." Deep breath in, release. At least the sour taste was passing. "You dug your heels in."

"You were in Special Forces and the CIA," she pointed out, "and you are turning green on a roller coaster. I would think you suffered worse with all the turbulence."

"There is a difference. I never got off one rocking plane and step onto another, then another—in the space of a half hour," he reasoned.

Joss looked contrite. "Sorry. Well...can I make it up to you by taking you to dinner?" she offered a small olive branch.

"Dinner?" Reese sounded surprised by the offer.

"Sure. You've been doing so much for me the last couple of weeks, and I want to give you something back. It's the least I can do since you did hold my hand on the ferris wheel," she said with heartfelt gratitude. "And since we're heading back tomorrow..."

"Okay, Joss," he agreed. He didn't care if he was making a trip to the moon as long as he got to spend time with her.

Joss smiled. "I know a great place."  
*****

"This is really good," Reese complimented as he took a bite of the medium rare steak that had been grilled to perfection.

"Thanks."

"I've been to Atlantic City a few times, but I didn't know about this place." Of course his visits involved covert, undercover missions for the CIA and Finch, so he never really took the time to stop in many establishments.

"I found it a couple of years ago," Joss confessed, "and I've been wanting to come back. The steaks are very good."

"They are comparable to 'The Grande'. I may have to let Finch in on our little secret."

Joss sipped from the crystal goblet. "Or we can keep it for ourselves."

"Yes, we could."

Soft music played over the strategically placed speakers to add a comforting, secure feeling to the already relaxed ambiance.

"I was wondering, Joss," Reese began carefully to lay out his plan for their return trip, "if maybe we shouldn't drive back to Manhattan."

"Drive?" She was a bit flummoxed by the idea, since they did have a private jet at their disposal. Wouldn't it be easier to take that back instead of sitting in a car for a few hours? "Why?"

"Why not? Sure, it's a couple of extra hours out of our lives, but we can take in a few sights along the way," he said. "And after all of the roller coaster rides today, I feel the need to stay as close to the ground as I can," he teased with a wink.

It was different than what she had planned. "I thought we might get back sooner."

"Pressing appointments?"

Joss shook her head. "Not really. I have to confess that since I have a couple weeks left of my leave, I thought I'd stay in bed and veg on TV and junk food." And the fact that in two weeks her life was going to return to normal.

Reese looked at her in surprise at her revelation. He never expected the die-hard, driven detective to have so much as one lazy bone in her body. But apparently she did.

"I didn't see that coming," he replied. And he liked it.

"We all have our moments—although I haven't had a lazy moment since I was twenty. I'm thinking it's time to have another." Joss cut her steak carefully and slowly. "With all the paperwork and reports and crime waiting for me when I get back to the 8th, I want to take some me time. God knows that when Taylor gets back from Europe I am going to have to put in the overtime." She forked in the steak and chewed.

"I thought he had a scholarship."

Joss sighed. "Scholarships only pay for so much. He still has books and clothes and meals and board..." she rattled off the list of extras that she would be responsible for to help her son with. Thankfully the brownstone was paid for, so she could take the amount due for a mortgage payment and apply it toward the college debt. Still, it was going to be tough.

"I'm sure there is something I can do to help. Or Finch," Reese suggested a couple of options. He didn't want to see her in distress. And it was obvious this financial burden—on top of everything else that was happening in her life—was causing her distress.

"Oh, no," Joss rejected the idea. "I could never expect you to pay for this."

"I want to help."

"You are, John. More than you know."

"If there is anything I can do, Joss, don't be afraid to let me know."

Joss' smile was a little sad. "Thanks, John." She knew he meant well, but how could she tell him the one thing she really wanted that he could never give her? She started to move her hand toward his. Slowly his moved toward hers.

"Will there be anything else?" The server appeared virtually from nowhere to break the spell. Quickly the pair pulled their hands back.

"Uh...um... I'm sort of in the mood for dessert," Joss declared and grabbed the menu. She scanned the list. "How about the...uh...double fudge Devil's Food cake?"

The server wrote the request down. "Anything for you, sir?"

Reese perused the menu. "I'll have the same. Coffee, Joss?"

She shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" It wasn't as though she had to turn in early and be to work. So what if she was wired for sound the rest of the night?

"I'll let Finch know we'll be back tomorrow so he doesn't have to pay for the plane."

"Sounds fair He's already paid for so much already."

"How is Taylor liking Europe?" Reese inquired.

"Well," Joss began with a short laugh, "he thinks the Eiffel Tower is awesome, and the girls are hot. They went to the Champs Elysees."

"On the Louvre. I've—."

Joss nodded knowingly. "You've been there," she interrupted with a snort. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I should tell him the places to visit. Let's see...there's the Seine, the Norte Dame Cathedral, the Montmartre..." he listed off the places from memory.

Joss fiddled with cloth serviette. "That's nice," she replied hollowly. She look out the large window at the harbour in the distance. The moon was full over the bay. It almost seemed as lonely as she felt.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Just...thinking." She looked up at the same time the server approached their table. "Oh, look. Dessert is here," she changed the subject—which was not lost on Reese.

The server placed the plates in front of Joss and Reese. "Will there be anything else?"

"We're fine, thank you," Reese dismissed politely. With a nod and smile, the server departed. Using his fork, he reached over and took a large piece of Joss' cake.

"Hey!" Joss protested. "What are you doing?"

Reese's look was one of pure innocence. "Eating dessert. This is delicious; you should try it." His eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Oh, yeah?" Joss picked up her fork and reached over to Reese's cake. "Two can play this game." She took a bite, closed her eyes and moaned in ecstasy. "Oh, this is heaven. You should try some." Before Reese could reply, she pushed the bite into his mouth.

"I think this one is better," he replied with his mouth full and returned the favour. He took pleasure in the way Joss laughed as her attention was diverted to something other than the great, fun time Taylor was having overseas. But at the same time his heart fell.

The trip to Atlantic City was over, they were heading back to Manhattan tomorrow. In two weeks Joss would be back at her place and life would return to normal. There had to be a way to make it last. But how?


	12. Chapter 12

_Sorry for the long wait. Well, you are about to see our mutual friends take control of CaReese's vacation, and with the Machine also getting involved...well, you know it's going to be anything but typical. I hope you enjoy._

* * *

 **The Greatest Reward**

"Good morning, Lionel." Shaw sidled up beside the detective who was busy munching on a pretzel.

Lionel covered his heart with his hand. "Geez! What is it with you CIA operatives? Didn't anyone teach you to knock?"

"Takes too much time." Shaw took the seat on the bench beside Lionel. "You texted me. I hope you bought me lunch."

Lionel picked up the brown bag, thrusting it at her. "Here."

Shaw opened it. "Gee, thanks," she deadpanned, pulling out a pretzel. She took a bite. "Is this how you treat all of your dates?"

"Be glad you got that."

"Real nutritious. Where's the coffee?"

"I didn't get you any," Lionel replied. Shaw gave him a blank look. "This isn't a date."

"Bummer. At least you remembered the cheese."

The pair ate in silence.

"I'm sure there is a reason you wanted to meet out in public."

"Any word on when Wonderboy and Carter are supposed to return?"

"Aw, Lionel. You sound concerned," she mocked, her tone dry without feeling. Something that was not lost on the detective.

"Concerned my ass. I'm tired of picking up the slack."

"For a moment I thought you were getting worn out from all our numbers."

"Well, my knees could use a break." Shaw shrugged, took another bite. "Hey, I'm not as young as I used to be," Lionel protested indignantly.

"You would be if you laid off the crullers and pumpkin spice lattes," she pointed out.

"Comfort food; I'm missing my partner."

"Sure, Lionel."

"So, do you know when they are returning?"

Shaw shifted her weight, tried to find a comfortable spot on the cool, hard wood. "I think Finch said something about them coming back today."

"It's going to suck for Carter," Lionel groused. "You know, coming back to most of her house missing."

"Those things happen." To other people, she added silently. She had bounced around for so long that she no longer put a sentimental price on material things.

"Yeah, well, they shouldn't happen to Carter; she's good people."

"Bugs don't care."

"I care."

"Is that why you want her back?"

"Look, I miss her."

"And-?"

"And her sub is a pain in my ass." Lionel kicked at the small rock on the ground. He watched as it bounced over the sidewalk, over the dead leaves, then hit the base of a tree trunk to come to a rest. He sighed. It hadn't made him feel any better.

"I'll bet he is. You sure it isn't the other way around?"

"Look, I'm having to do my own reports," Lionel growled with indignation.

"How many?"

"Fifteen."

Shaw looked nonplussed. "Fifteen?"

"Ten."

"Ten?"

"Okay. Okay. Six. Are you happy?" he surrendered.

"No," Shaw answered truthfully.

"Gee, you have a great bedside manner, Doc."

"Ditto."

The pair sat quietly on the bench. Neither was eager to begin a conversation, but neither was in any hurry to leave.

"What if I said that I didn't want Carter to come back?" Lionel asked out of the blue.

That made Shaw blink in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Look, hear me out."

Shaw sat up straighter, to say she was intrigued would be an understatement. "I'm all ears."

"Are they having fun in Atlantic City?"

Shaw shrugged indifferently. Finch hadn't said anything to the contrary. "I guess you can call it that."

"Carter hasn't had a vacation in years," Fusco admitted between bites.

"Yeah."

"She needs to get away," Lionel continued. "Have some fun. Kick up her heels. Although I'm not sure Superman is the right person to do that. Still, it wouldn't hurt her to get away from the rat race."

"Away from you?"

"Ha ha. You and Wonderboy are real comedians. Too bad vaudeville isn't around anymore; the two of you could take your act on the road," Lionel mocked. He balled up the waxed paper and tossed it in the wastebasket two feet from where he sat. "I have to go back to work."

Shaw grabbed his arm. "Wait. Look, I'm sorry. I'll hear you out."

"Carter needs downtime. And I think I know how."

"Is this going to get us in trouble?" Shaw wondered, half excited by the possibility.

"I thought you liked trouble."

Shaw considered a response, then nodded. "I'm in. What is your plan?"

"Finch is good with computers," Lionel mused.

What seemed to be a smile of appreciation tugged at Shaw's lips as her mind melded with his.

"I like the way you think, Lionel." She hit a button on her phone.

"Good morning, Ms. Shaw," Finch greeted from the other side.

"No time for pleasantries, Harold. Have our mutual friends departed Atlantic City?" she inquired.

"They just checked out of the hotel," Finch passed along the information.

"I think we may have found a way to keep them on holiday for a while longer," Shaw said.

"I heard. I must commend Detective Fusco for taking the initiative. What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know...maybe a traffic jam."

"Heh. A little too Chris Christie."

Lionel rolled his eyes thoughtfully. "How about a little congestion that leads to a detour?" he amended.

Finch typed quickly on the keyboard. The Machine mulled over the input before offering a suggestion.

Finch smiled. "I'm glad we're on the same page," he praised his invention. "A work request to fill in a huge pothole has just been filed with Public Works. That should detour them. As for them taking it slow and easy... I hope Mr. Reese knows how to change a flat tire in the middle of nowhere."

Shaw and Lionel smiled.  
************

"I can't believe in two hours I'm going to be back in Manhattan," Joss remarked. Her tone held disappointment at leaving her vacation. But the fun was over, and now it was time to go back home.

No, she told herself, not home. She didn't have a home; just a room in John's loft. It wasn't the same. She sighed.

"What's wrong?" Reese asked, looking out of the corner of his eye at Joss. He sensed there was something on her mind, but he didn't want to intrude by asking.

Joss shrugged. "Nothing." She looked out the passenger window at the passing scenery. "Nothing." She reached over and turned on the radio. Smokey Robinson's clear and pure tenor filled the interior.

The phone rang. Reese reached over and hit the talk button.

"Hello, Finch."

"Good afternoon, John. I take that your two days in Atlantic City was memorable," Finch greeted.

"It was. Thank you, Harold."

"Thank you, Finch," Joss chimed in.

"I am going to assume that you are on your way back to Manhattan."

"That was the plan," Reese replied. "What's wrong? You have a number we need to take care of?"

"No. I just wanted to make sure that you and Detective Carter are well. I will see you when you return."

"Thank you, Finch."

"You're welcome, Mr. Reese." The call disconnected.

"Whew!" Joss breathed a sigh of relief. "For a moment I thought he was going to have us tail a suspect."

"I thought you were eager to get back to work," Reese teased.

"I guess. I just want to put my feet up. Enjoy the rest of my vacation." She hoped she sounded convincing.

"I know what-" The phone buzzed.

 _Road construction ahead. Take detour in 500 feet._

"Okay, slight detour," Reese said.

"What do you mean 'slight detour'?" Joss asked, sitting up straight.

"Road construction."

"What?! There's no road-" Her phone buzzed. "I stand corrected. How do you suppose that happened?"

"I'm not sure." Reese guided the car out of the line that was forming, and pointed it in the direction the Machine had directed.

"Why didn't Finch say anything?"

"Maybe he didn't know," Reese tried to cover for his friend.

Joss snorted sarcastically. "Finch knows everything—even before it happens." The miles ticked by slowly. The music played softly on the radio, substituting conversation by placating both occupants.

"Where are we?" Joss asked nearly an hour later. She was hungry and needed to stretch her limbs—among other personal things that needed tending to. She wished she hadn't had that second cup of coffee at breakfast and instead grabbed the extra blueberry muffin.

Reese peered at the landscape. "Somewhere in eastern Pennsylvania...I think." It looked a little like the National Geographic pictures, he thought to himself, but he was hoping they would be heading toward New York. Soon. He wondered-not for the first time-if he hadn't made a wrong turn.

"How much longer?" Joss asked, shifting in the seat. What she would give for an ice cold Coca-Cola.

" _In one mile make a right,"_ the computer voice instructed.

"A little over a mile," Reese guessed. He was sure the GPS had a reason for sending them in this particular area, but a little part of him doubted the technology.

"Good. Pretty landscape," Joss observed. She had seen pictures of farmland in Amish country, but it was quite another to be experiencing the majestic beauty. She hoped her phone was fully charged.

Suddenly the car swerved to the left. Reese tried to keep his cool as he performed a defensive driving technique to correct and point the car in the right direction and keep it on the road.

"Hold on," he ordered and braced his arms to help guide the car to the shoulder. Slowly he applied the brakes until they came to a stop.

"What was that?" Joss asked fearfully, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"I don't know." Reese was already half out the door. "Stay here."

"You stay here," she retorted. "I'm coming with." Stepping out of the vehicle, she hurried to where Reese was opening the trunk. "What happened?"

"A flat."

"A flat?! This is a brand new car!"

Reese opened the compartment, extracting the jack, tire iron, and spare tire. "Don't look at me." He handed Joss the jack. "Hold this for me, please?"

"Sure." Joss followed to the front end of the car. She cast a disgusted look at the circle of rubber while Reese readied the tire to be changed.

"Jack." Joss handed over the tiny mechanism that was supposed to hold up a one ton vehicle. "Tire iron."

"How long?" she asked. She tapped her foot impatiently.

"A few minutes."

Joss let out her breath and tried to think of something other than her screaming bladder. Maybe if she took a walk, she could focus her attention elsewhere. Then they could be back on the road.

Stepping back, she walked around the car, then stopped cold. _Was that what she thought it was?_

"John," she called out. "Come here, please."

Reese stood up and rubbed his dirty hands across the legs of his slacks. "What's wrong?"

"Uh..." The words failed her, so Joss pointed at what had caught her attention. "Look."

Reese turned his head to look in the direction of Joss' finger. "What the hell?!" He hurried over to the passenger side of the car and knelt down beside the tire.

"Is that what I think it is?" Joss wondered out loud.

Reese let out a heavy breath, then slapped the tire hard. This couldn't be happening; not twice in one day, he cursed silently. But the evidence was right there and it couldn't be denied.

"It's flat."


	13. Chapter 13

_Yes, there are a couple of nods in this chapter. And if you think the Machine is putting her two cents in...well, you're correct.  
Enjoy._

* * *

 **The Greatest Reward**

"Two flat tires?!" Joss questioned in disbelief. Her eyes were looking at the evidence, but her mind refused to believe it. "Two flat tires?!" she repeated. It was real.

Reese knelt down and touched the deflated rubber circle. "Looks like it," he affirmed.

"How do you suppose that happened?" It was a purely rhetorical question, but even if there was a possible answer, it wouldn't bring her comfort.

Reese shook his head. "I don't think we're going to be heading back to Manhattan today."

"Great!" Joss put her hands on her hips and spun around to look at where they were stranded. The middle of nowhere, no gas stations, no bodegas, nothing. "Can we call Finch?"

Reese hit dial. Nothing.

"No signal."

Joss tried to compartmentalize the anger building up by donning her military bearing. "Let me get this straight: We get a late start on the road, then we get detoured to the middle of nowhere, followed by a flat..."

"Two flats," Reese corrected.

"Excuse me. Two flats. Now we have no phone signal to call the one person who always ears on what we are doing." Joss bit her lip. "Doesn't this sound suspicious to you?"

Reese rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I don't know, Joss." What was and wasn't suspicious was the last thing on his mind. All he knew was the carefree get-a-away he planned for his friend had gone south.

"Maybe we can walk?" he suggested, standing up to stretch his legs.

Joss shook her head. "Heh. Not an option. I don't see anything in the horizon to indicate there's a town nearby. My guess is the nearest place is at least ten miles." Her bladder was not going to last two miles—much less ten!

"You could stay here while I—"

"Oh, no. Not even a viable option, John. I am not staying here by myself while you wander off," she nixed the idea.

"It will be fine," he argued.

"Every time you go off on your own, trouble follows. We have two flats, no phone, and no provisions; I am not bailing you out of jail on top of everything else. We stay together," she ordered in her best Warrant Officer tone.

"Aye aye, Officer Carter." Reese gave a mock salute, but his eyes were dancing. "Since we're going to be here for a while, what do you suggest we do to pass the time?"

"What-what do you mean?" Joss swallowed nervously.

"Well..." Reese took a step forward, "...the middle of nowhere. I didn't bring a deck of cards."

"C-cards?"

"You know, play a little poker to pass the time." He took a couple of more steps so he was standing directly in front of her. The breeze light enough to carry the scent of his cologne—a fact that was not lost on Joss.

"I-I have cards," she stammered. He was standing so close she almost forgot how to think—how to speak.

Reese blinked in surprise. "You do?"

"In my purse. I like to play Solitaire."

"Oh." Not exactly what he had in mind. He tried to find words to respond. "Joss—"

"Look!" Joss exclaimed. "Someone is coming." She stepped around Reese and began waving her arms. The truck slowed down to a stop. The window was rolled down.

"You look like you need some help," the driver observed casually as he took in the flustered woman, the dirt covered man, and the car on the jack - sans a tire.

"We were on our way to New York and got lost," Reese revealed carefully. His instincts were on high as he profiled the middle-aged man with silver hair, dressed conservatively in a suit and tie.

"You're quite a way from New York," the man pointed out with a laugh.

"We were using Google Maps."

"That will do it every time." The man looked at the car. "I see you got a flat."

"Two."

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Two flats?" He put the engine in park before stepping out to check out what he had heard for himself. He blew out his breath. "Well, don't that beat all." He turned to look at Joss and Reese.

"Tell you what, how about I give you a ride to town?" he offered.

"That's kind of you, but—" Reese began.

"I'm heading that way, so it's not trouble," the man interrupted politely. "I know a great a place where you can freshen up and get a hot meal."

"But our car," Joss protested.

The man shrugged. "Yeah." He mulled over their options. "If we can get the one tire on, I'm sure we can get it transported. My son owns a repair shop, and I'm sure he can get this towed in and repaired."

Reese and Joss shared a look.

"You got my word. The sooner your tires get fixed, the sooner you can get back on the road back home. Come on."

Joss smiled. "Sure. Why not? Let me grab my purse."

"Thank you," Reese said.

"No problem, son."

Reese extended his hand. "John Warren."

"Jim McIntyre. Nice to meet you." He shook Reese's hand.

"Joss Carter," she introduced herself and shook Jim's hand. "Thank you so much for your hospitality."

"I broke down last week and a stranger went out of his way for me. I'm paying it forward." Jim waited for Reese and Joss to get settled in the cab, then he got inside and started the engine.

The ride was done in silence, but there wasn't much to talk about. Fifteen minutes later Jim pulled in front of a diner.

"Here we are. Go in and get something to eat. Tell Dorothy I said to take care of you. Meanwhile, I'm going to get my son on your car."

"I can't thank you enough."

Jim chuckled. "I can tell you're city folk. I'll come back around after I take care of some business and let you know what's going on. Go freshen up," he ordered firmly.

Reese stepped out of the truck cab, turning around to extend his hand to help Joss down. He closed the door. Then the truck pulled away.

"Whew! Wow!" Joss breathed in wonderment at all that had transpired. She looked around at the small town. People and cars passed by. One or two people even waved in hello. She hesitantly waved back. Her stomach rumbled.

"Think I'm hungry," she apologized as Reese shot her a look.

"Let's get you fed, Joss." He opened the door to the diner and let her walk in first.

"This is delicious," Joss complimented as she dug into her platter of meatloaf and mashed potatoes.

"I almost think you didn't eat breakfast this morning," Reese quipped, slowly eating his slow roasted pot roast with vegetables.

"I did," Joss contradicted with her mouth full, "but this is so good. Almost as good as my mom's."

"Do you need a refill on your drinks?" Dorothy asked, suddenly appearing at the table with a pitcher of tea in her hands.

"I'll take more," Reese replied. Dorothy refilled both glasses.

"How's everything?" she asked.

"It's good. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it. Jim said to take care of you."

"He's a nice guy," Reese observed.

"He better be, he's my husband. He said you folks had some car trouble," she replied with genuine sympathy.

"Two flats."

"Two flats. That's something you don't see every day. Brent—our son—will take care of it. Meanwhile, I'll let you two enjoy your meal. If you need anything, let me know."

"Thank you."

"She's nice," Joss said, reaching for a corn muffin in the basket. She couldn't put her finger on why she was so hungry. Maybe it had something to do with the food tasting so good. Or just the fact that she was beginning to relax. Either way, she felt good.

"I tried Finch, but the line is still down."

The muffin stopped halfway to Joss' mouth. "That's strange. Do you think something is wrong?" They had had one too many close calls with their bespectacled friend not to worry about worst case scenario.

"I'm sure Finch is fine," Reese assured, but deep down inside he had the same worries. "I'll try him after we finish."

"Okay." Joss chewed slowly before saying, "I was wondering if we couldn't do some window shopping before we pick up the car."

Reese shrugged. "If you want to."

"I'd love to..." Her words trailed off as Dorothy passed by them with a large slice of apple pie and ice cream on a plate. "...after I have dessert."  
******

"Do you think Finch is going to be angry that I used the card to buy some things?" Joss wondered as they walked out of the consignment store. In her hands she carried two large bags.

"He said to use it."

"I just couldn't resist that suede leather jacket from Yugoslavia." Joss' eyes shined at the mention of the rare find. "I can't believe I got it for five dollars."

"You're quite the bargainer. Maybe when you get tired of chasing down criminals and putting them away, you can have a career as a bargain shopper," Reese propose the idea.

"Heh. Right, me doing this for the rest of my life in a small town?" she retorted.

"Anything is possible."

"Yeah. Anything."

"Hey, John," Jim McIntyre called out as he ran across the street from the diner. He carefully dodged the on coming traffic. "I was hoping to catch you. Brent called me. Seems he needs to talk to you about your car."

Joss and Reese shared a look.

"What's wrong with the car?" Joss asked.

"Don't know. But his shop is two blocks over this way. Follow me."

Nervous about what the news could be, the pair followed Jim where he led. "Hey, Brent!" Jim called out as they approached the immaculate repair shop. The line of cars parked along the building showed how in demand Brent's services were. Reese was impressed.

"Hey, Dad!" the oil streaked young man greeted back. He took off his work gloves and extended a hand. "You must be John and Joss. Dad told me about you." Everyone shook hands.

"I got your car over here." He pointed to where the black sedan rested on a hydraulic jack platform.

"What's wrong with it?" Reese asked.

"I got the tires off and tried to inflate them, but every time I mount them and get the lug nuts on, they deflate."

"Strange," Joss murmured.

"I'd say. Never seen anything like it. I'm a little backed up today, but I can get to it first thing in the morning," Brent offered.

"First thing in the morning?" Joss echoed. Her eyes flew to Reese's. What did that mean? Were they going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere until tomorrow?

"It's the best I can do. I hope it doesn't put a crimp in your vacation plans," Brent apologized.

"No, I understand," Reese replied in his usual eye of the storm way. They were stranded for another day. Possibly two.

Reese turned toward Jim. "Is there a hotel around?"

"There's a Bed-n-Breakfast over on Truman Road. I'm sure they have a couple of rooms available."

"Thanks."

"John—" Joss began her protest.

"Let's go see if they have those rooms available, Joss," Reese said, cutting off her protest. He took her hand, and pulled her gently but firmly to follow him.

Brent waited for the couple to leave before he spoke.

"It's almost as though someone has it in for them," he said with a tinge of sadness in his voice.

"You can't fix a tire that refuses to be fixed," Jim comforted. "Besides," he nodded at the cars lined up outside, "you can't help it if cars break down—although I've never seen so many cars outside before."

"That's it, Dad."

"What do you mean, son?"

"It's the darnedest thing. All of the cars that came in were registering oxygen sensor trouble. It was almost as if the computer chip went bad. But I can't find any recalls on line," Brent said.

Jim chuckled. "Are you saying that some machine caused this malfunction?" He ruffled Brent's hair. "I think you have been watching too many conspiracy movies. Now go wash up and close down shop. Dinner will be ready in half an hour."

"Tell Mom I'll be there."

Jim turned on his heel and walked away, but his mind was on the couple. He wasn't sure, but he would almost bet that fate had it in for them. And if the look he caught between them was any indicator, that wouldn't be a bad thing.


	14. Chapter 14

_In response to a few of the reviews I have received, I feel the need to set the record straight: This is a LOVE story, nothing more. There are no criminals; there are no numbers; no revenge; it's just two people being thrust together under weird circumstances and learning the ropes of life and love. The ONLY bad guys are the BED BUGS._

* * *

 **The Greatest Reward**

"What is this?" Joss demanded with her hands on her hips. She swore her eyes had to be playing tricks on her, but considering the whirlwind of the past couple of days, she was no longer positive of what was real and what wasn't. But she was pretty sure this one was real.

"A bed," Reese replied simply.

"I know it's a bed, John."

"Then what is the problem?"

"This one."

Reese nodded. "Certainly looks like it," he confirmed.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"About...?"

"The sleeping arrangements, John. You can't expect me—and you—to share a bed. Together."

"It's a King," Reese pointed out matter of fact, as though it solved the present problem.

"I don't care if it's as wide as the ocean; I'm not sharing it with you," she stated firm enough to leave absolutely no room for argument.

Reese looked around at the tastefully furnished room. His eyes focused on the antique loveseat resting under the large window covered by delicate lace curtains that were moved softly by the breeze.

"I'm not sleeping on that," he verbally put his foot down.

Joss opened her mouth to argue. "I—"

"And I am not sleeping on the floor," he finished, cutting off her response.

"John, you can't sleep with me," Joss protested.

"Why not?" he challenged. His blue eyes held her brown ones until she had to look away. Would it be wrong to say that he loved to push her to the point where she was flustered?

"Well...because...well, I..." she sputtered. Her thoughts were jumbled by the prospect of sharing the same bed as the Man In The Suit—although her stomach was fluttering at the thought. Quickly she kicked herself. Where had _that_ feeling come from?!

"Haven't you ever seen 'It Happened One Night' with Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert?" he asked out of the blue.

"What? What does an old movie have to do with this? Us?" Joss demanded in an exasperated tone. Was he deliberately being obtuse by changing the subject, she wondered.

"Well...they were caught in the same situation," Reese replied. "If memory serves correctly, Gable strung a sheet across the bed to divide it in half—one side his; one side hers."

Joss looked around the room, her detective's eye looking for a way to make a fictional movie scene a possible reality.

"The wall is fifteen feet from this wall," she estimated. "I don't think the owners of this place are going to appreciate us pounding holes in the wall to put a clothesline up for one night." She looked at the love seat. With enough pillows, she could make it work—maybe. It looked comfortable. Sort of. Not really.

Reese pondered a solution. "I think I may have an idea." He took the extra pillows from the bed and placed them in the middle of the bed, making sure he plumped them high. Next he reached for the cylinder style pillows from the love seat and lined them side to side with the pillows to make a border.

"There," he said triumphantly and stood back to admire his handiwork. "Lay down."

"What?"

"Lay down," he repeated. "On the bed."

Joss shook her head. "I'm not—"

"Joss, lay on the bed. Please."

Shocked by the authoritarian tone, Joss kicked off her shoes, then laid on the bed. She shifted her weight on the mattress until she was comfortable. Moving her arm, she felt for the pillows before realizing she had nearly a foot of empty space. She turned her head when the mattress shifted to the right.

"Comfortable?" Reese asked.

"You do good, John," she grudgingly complimented. "I didn't know you could think so fast on your feet."

"Military training. One night in Anbar Province, we all had to double and triple up in the tents. A couple of us were stuck with women. And with all that sexual harassment training we had to go through...well, I had enough to worry about with snipers without having to face the old man. In tight quarters you work with what you have."

"Ah. A regular MacGyver," she teased.

Reese gave a sarcastic snort. "I'm not sure I can create a grenade from a Kool-Aid container and a box of Alka-Seltzer, but I can hold my own." Being less than an arm's length away from her in such an intimate way was leading him to believe that someone had taken that homemade grenade and detonated it in his stomach.

"No, you are more rocket grenade launcher," Joss teased. A minute passed before Joss spoke. "I think I can live with this arrangement," she decided.

"Good. Now let's go get dinner," Reese said, swinging his legs over to the floor and sat up. He reached for Joss's hand. "Race you downstairs."

Joss took the proffered hand and pulled herself up. Standing up, she ran her fingers thru her hair. At the last second, she pushed Reese on to the bed, then ran to the door.

"Last one there is a rotten egg," she called out and closed the door behind her.  
*****

"So, where are you from, Mr. Warren?" Ellen Walters asked from her place at the head of the long dining table. She picked up the bowl of mashed potatoes, scooped a few onto her plate, then passed them to her right.

"Call me John," he corrected and took the bowl. He placed the potatoes on his plate and passed them on. "Long Island."

"Ah. New York."

"I've always wanted to go there," a petite redheaded girl about fifteen piped up. "I want to be a dancer, but I heard it's really hard to get noticed. Have you been to a Broadway show?"

"Brittany," the auburn haired woman sitting next to her reprimanded, "that's not nice. I'm sorry."

"No, that's okay."

"Mom..." Brittany whined in the way only a teenager could.

"I'm sure Mr and Mrs Warren don't want to talk about Broadway shows while on their vacation," she tried to redirect the subject to something else less intrusive. "Mrs. Walters, what is your secret to such great tasting potatoes?"

Joss's head snapped up. "What? Oh, no, we're not..." She looked to Reese for help. "I mean..." All eyes turned to look at her. Reese reached over and placed his hand over hers. He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"What my wife is trying to say is that we just moved there, so we haven't had a chance to make it into Manhattan yet," Reese fabricated a background story as effortlessly and smooth than Joss thought possible.

"So, how did you end up here?" Ellen digged for information.

"A glitch in the tech world," Joss replied with mock disgust. "We heard from everyone that computer GPS is the way to travel. Yeah...not so much." She forked in the chicken fried steak before she could say anything else.

"She isn't hot on technology. We were hoping to head back home today, but here we are," he explained logically.

"Ah." Everyone at the table nodded in agreement as if they had once been in the same shoes. If only they knew.

"Well, we're happy to have you both. I'm sure that by tomorrow they'll have your car repaired and you'll be on your way." Ellen took a sip from her crystal goblet. "However, I hope you stay for a couple of days and sight-see. You picked the right time—what with the change of the seasons getting ready to happen, and the apple festival this weekend."

"We'll think about it," Reese replied noncommittally. "It's my wife's call." His eyes met Joss's surprised look. "We do need to get the dog from Harold."

"You have a dog?!" Brittany cried out happily. "What kind? What's her name?" The questions came faster than any bullets. "Do you have a picture?"

"Honey, let them eat. I'm sure they are tired and want to turn in," Brittany's mother reproached her daughter's over the top enthusiasm. "I'm sorry," she apologized again, and gave a smile. Her eyes met Reese's, then looked away—a reaction that was not lost on Joss.

"No problem." Indifferent to the pass, Reese turned to direct his next question to their host. "So...what's do you do around here?"  
******

"She was flirting with you, John," Joss observed in a casual sort of way that hid her disgust—although her jealousy was bubbling at the surface.

"She was? I hadn't noticed," Reese deflected as he sat down on the love seat and removed his shoes. All he wanted to do was lie back and sink into the soft mattress. If he had a wish it would be not to wake up for two days. He was exhausted.

"I saw it." Joss couldn't explain why she was making it into a big deal, but she got hold of the bone and she wasn't letting go until she had some answers.

"Okay."

Joss stood with her hands on her hips. "Are you trying to tell me that you didn't notice the way she blushed when you spoke to her?"

Reese shook his head. "No. Was I supposed to notice?"

"A gorgeous guy like you, and you can't see when a woman is coming on to you?" Joss couldn't comprehend how clueless he seemed to be. Was that normal? How could he not be aware of the way women swooned at the feet of a tall, dark and handsome man with blue eyes? For all of his sense of doing right and ability to kick ass, John Reese was clueless.

"I don't see what's the big deal."

"Well, she is beautiful," Joss acknowledged, walking over to the dresser, opening it to pull out a pair of pajamas. A pang of envy hit her heart. "And what was with you calling me your wife?" Her voice sounded strained by the question.

"It's getting late." Reese dug in his go bag for his toothbrush and toothpaste. "I'm going to brush my teeth," he announced. "Then I'm going to bed." He walked over to the door, opened it, then closed it behind him.

Her anger dissipated like a deflated balloon, now she stood bewildered by Reese's actions. Joss sighed. "Way to go, Jocelyn." She rubbed a hand over her weary face. It was going to be a long night.


	15. Chapter 15

_It's going to take a little time, but they are finding their way to one another. And though it may seem that Reese is doing all of the hard work, there is a method to his madness. It will be worth it. I hope no one gets angry that I had to kill off Reese's mother, but he did mention in the PILOT that he didn't have any family or friends, so why couldn't she be gone?_

 _Thank you for all the reviews (when FF posts them!) and feedback!_

* * *

 **The Greatest Reward**

Joss carefully balanced the tray on her hip and opened the front door. Pushing the screen door open with her foot, she stepped on to the porch and into the chilly morning air. The crisp autumn breeze gently moved the trees, and filled the air with the scent of burning wood. She took in the brilliant orange, red and yellow leaves that seemed to be bursting on the trees. It was almost something out of a Rockwell painting—but better.

Her eyes moved from the trees to the far corner of the porch to where the lone figure stood with his back to her. On quiet feet she walked over.

"Good morning, John," she greeted. He turned around to face her.

"Good morning, Joss." His eyes were guarded but not condemning.

"I brought you some coffee," she offered and held up the tray. "Ellen said you hadn't had any, and I thought you might want a hot drink." She smiled cautiously.

Reese took the mug. "Thanks."

"You were gone before I woke up," she softly accused. Her voice held a tinge of sadness to reveal how she felt deep down inside.

"I thought you might want to have more of the bed to yourself," he excused his possible act of cowardice. He sipped the coffee carefully. He was pretty sure he knew why Joss had sought him out, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Joss tried to meet Reese's eyes, but failed.

"I'm sorry about last night," she apologized. Reese said nothing. "I was rude and accusatory, and I was wrong."

"Apology accepted," Reese replied simply.

Joss paused. "Wait. You're not going to make me grovel?"

Reese's eyes sparkled with humour. "I considered it. However, I have something else in mind."

"What?" Joss set the tray on the railing so she could put her hands on her hips.

"You'll have to wait and find out."

"John..." Joss fumed, then gave up. "Okay. I'll play along, but I have one question: Why did you refer to me as your wife?"

"Do you have a problem with it?" Reese murmured over the rim of the mug.

"Well...yes...I mean, no. It's just..." Joss tried to come up with a satisfying answer, but nothing came to mind. He had once again put her on the spot. How did he have the power to always one up her?

"Just what, Joss?"

"I didn't think we would..."

"Pretend to be married while lost in the middle of nowhere?" he finished.

"Heh. Yeah."

"I didn't think you'd mind if I lied about our involvement. Although we are far enough away from Manhattan and bad guys who want us dead, questions still remain. Questions..." he took a step forward, "...that I'm not sure you'd want to answer." He was so close, she could feel the heat from his body ward off the chill.

Her laugh was shaky as she answered, "So, now I'm Mrs. Bad Ass In A Suit?"

"Mrs. Warren sounds better," he corrected. He reached up and cupped her cheek in his free hand. "Unless you'd rather use the first," he offered the alternative.

"No, I'm okay with Warren—as long as I can go back to Carter when all of this is over," she returned.

Reese nodded. "Anything you want, Joss." He started to lower his head. Joss held her breath. He was going to kiss her! Right there on the porch in front of everyone! Her brain tried to command her feet to run, her body to pull away. But it was futile. All she could do was close her eyes and give in...

"There you are," Ellen's voice called out, interrupting the moment. Joss pulled back and turned to look at their hostess. What has almost occurred was not lost on Ellen. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I knocked on your door, but..." Her cheeks flushed pink.

"What's wrong?" Joss asked. Her detective's feeler went up; usually when someone searched her out, crime was right around the corner.

"Breakfast is ready." Her smile was warm and reassuring. "But there's no hurry," she amended in an attempt to repair the moment.

Reese looked at Joss, then at their hostess. "Breakfast sounds great. I'm famished." He took Joss's hand in his and held tight.

"I thought you might want to fill up before going on the hayride."

Joss's eyes widened in surprise. "Hayride?"

Ellen turned around, her face bright with joy. "You are going to love it!"  
*******

"Oh," Joss groaned as she slowly and tenderly walked into the bedroom "now I know how Fusco felt when he got shot in the ass."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate hearing that," Reese quipped from his place near the dresser. He closed the drawer and turned around.

"Is this payback for the roller coaster?" Joss eased her sore and tired body onto the mattress. Closing her eyes, she let herself sink into the pillow-top softness. The hot shower had helped some, but there was a certain kind of heaven in lying down that compared to nothing else. She could feel the muscles begin to relax.

"I thought you might want to get in touch with nature," Reese mused. He took his place on the opposite side of the bed, then reached over and turned off the lamp.

"Sitting in the back of a wagon covered with hay is not getting in touch with nature," Joss replied thru gritted teeth. She could still feel the way the wooden box had jostled her body as it jumped, and dipped, and rolled over every bump, pothole, and rock on the dirt road. Not since boot camp had her body ached so badly.

"What would you call it?" Reese grinned.

"Torture in its rarest form."

"I thought it was great," he teased

"Oh, this coming from a man who once declared that he considered being shot and set on fire in the trunk of a car was a lucky day," Joss snorted sarcastically.

"It was fun."

"Which one?"

"Both."

"You're a sadist. This is the twenty-first century; shouldn't those things come with shocks?"

"Kinda takes 'roughing it' out of the equation. And it wouldn't be as much fun," he reasoned.

"Ugh! I am going to need that massage therapist Fusco was complaining about when we get back to Manhattan," Joss groaned and shifted her weight. Joints and muscles she didn't even know she had were screaming in agony. Now she knew how her Aunt Ethel felt. Oh, God! When had she gotten old?

"There was nothing you enjoyed about it?" Reese wondered.

Joss internally struggled to deny one good thing about the whole day. "Uh...ugh! Okay, you win," she conceded. "I liked it."

Even the darkness couldn't hide the grin on Reese's face. "I knew it."

"You're arrogant."

"You like it."

"You're going to sleep on the love-seat," she warned.

Reese chuckled lightly. "I could help," he offered.

"You can help...? What? Oh, no," she protested as his meaning dawned on her. "Not happening, John."

"Why not? You're in pain, and I know what to do to make you feel better."

"You're trained in massage therapy?" she scoffed at the thought of the hired killer having skills other than nailing bad guys in the kneecaps. "Is that from the Army, or the CIA?"

"Neither. I did have a life before the government," he reminded her. "Trust me, Joss."

"No..." she protested, but her body was demanding relief.

"Roll over," he commanded.

"No, I..."

"Roll over, Joss. Please."

"Okay." She gave in and did as he asked. "One wrong move," she warned.

"I know, Detective, you're armed."

"Just so we're clear."

She braced herself for his touch, but it was so featherlight, she almost missed it. T she felt the tips of his fingers knead gently but firmly, into her shoulders and help her relax. For ten seconds she fought to not give in, but the way his hands moved over her back destroyed that last bit of resistance.

"Ooooh..." Her body was liquefied, and her brain was pudding, but she didn't care. His eyes might be devil blue, but his hands had the angels' touch.

"How does that feel?" Reese asked, keeping his voice low so as not to ruin the moment.

"You are... This is... I...don't...know..." Joss's thoughts were jumbled worse than letters in a Scrabble box.

"Do, you want me to stop?"

"If you stop, I'll shoot you," she threatened – not that she could get up and make good on her threat. But the words would be enough to keep him on his toes until she could get the feeling back in her legs.

"You don't need to say anything more, Detective." Reese smiled and continued to work his magic. As he kneaded her muscles, he felt the knots and strain begin to ebb until the area was soft and pliant. The minutes passed as he continued his ministrations.

"Did you go to school to learn this?"

"No. God given talent, I guess." Reese set a slow rhythm of kneading, pushing, massaging until he got the right resistance, then moved to another area. He was doing a preliminary check of the spots needing the most attention before proceeding.

"You're good—better than good," she complimented. He was better than good, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Thanks."

"Where did you learn to do this? Ex-girlfriends?" she teased.

"No. My mother."

Joss tried to keep focused on the moment and not the relaxing pleasure coursing thru her body.

"Your mother was a massage therapist?" she asked in bewilderment.

"My mother had ALS," Reese corrected. His voice seemed to change the moment the subject was brought up—light and teasing, to low and distant. Something that wasn't lost on Joss.

Joss turned her head to look at him. "I'm so sorry." And she was, truly. She knew he had no family, but she never would have guessed why. She could hear the pain in his voice. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Lay down, Joss. Let me finish." Joss did as she was told. Reese placed his hands on her back and continued. The room was quiet. Eerily quiet.

"So...you did massage on your mom?" Joss carefully broached the subject.

"It helped with her circulation when she became reliant on a wheelchair, and then bed-ridden."

"How long did she...?" Joss trailed off, not able to finish the inquiry.

"Less than two years. It hit her pretty fast. The treatments back thirty-three years ago weren't like they are now. She was pretty accepting of the diagnosis," Reese recalled with a heavy heart. He remembered getting the news and feeling as though he had been hit by a truck. He couldn't count the times he walked off into the woods behind the house to cry in secret. Or the many times he raised his fist to the sky and cursed the god who had made this happen. But what hurt the most was the way his mother had resigned herself to the news. Her only wish had been to join her husband, and it had come true. It was then he decided to never give his heart to anyone.

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen. She was thirty nine."

"What was her name?"

"Margaret. How do you feel?" he asked.

Joss slowly opened her eyes to look at Reese. "Like I'm in heaven," the words were slurred. Her voice sounded as though it were coming from far away. In all of her life she had never felt so relaxed, so content. She swore she was floating on a cloud, just hovering above without a care in the world.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I could keep you forever..." Her words faded off.

Reese listened to the even breathing. His hands continued to work despite Joss being fast asleep.

"You too, Joss," he whispered back.


	16. Chapter 16

**The Greatest Reward**

"I love you too, Taylor," Joss said with a catch in her voice. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Be safe, okay?" Sniffling softly, she disconnected the call, then leaned against the tall porch column. She was sad that her baby was so far away, but at the same time she was happy. The contradiction was almost too much for her brain to make sense of.

Taking a deep breath of the fresh morning air, she took in the majestic beauty of the rare Indian Summer eastern Pennsylvania was experiencing. Manhattan never could look like this; even the air was fresh and clear of innercity smells she had grown used to. And the sound of...silence. No horns honking, no shouting, no rushing from one place to another. It was, dare she say, peaceful? A part of her could live here forever, she thought to herself.

A figure in the distance caught her eye. Some inner instinct was able to identify who it was before he came closer for recognition. Joss felt her heart pick up speed as her eyes met the blue ones of her friend and her possible lover. Joss blinked. Where had _that_ come from? She felt her cheeks burn hot at the thought.

"Joss," Reese called out as he walked closer.

Embarrassed that he might be able to read what she was thinking, Joss averted her eyes, but gave a small wave of acknowledgment. She studied the intricate design of the spiderweb in the corner of the porch, although the pounding of Reese's footsteps on the wood alerted her to his presence.

"Good morning," he greeted. His eyes looked her over taking in her blue jeans and cable knit sweater, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her face was bare of make-up to give her a fresh, natural look that made his heart skip a couple of beats.

"Morning, John," she replied back. Her stomach did some kind of weird flip-flop, but she chalked it up to not having her coffee.

Trained in the science of body language, Reese tried to read Joss. Something was different about her, but what? Her carriage was straighter, but her eyes wouldn't meet his. Not like her at all. He was sure that something was wrong or different, but what? He looked for any thing to clue him into what was bothering her. Out of the corner his eye he caught the phone in her hand. Ah!

"Walk with me, Joss," Reese invited.

She started to protest. "John..." How could she explain that she didn't want to be close enough to touch him, smell him, fantasize about him?

"Come on, Joss," he said with a grin that threatened to turn her knees into jelly. Oh, what the hell! Shoving the phone in the pocket of her cardigan, she walked down the steps of the porch to where Reese stood.

"Around the block."

"Around the block it is, Detective," he replied back smartly. Whether by design or fate, their steps quickly fell into sync as they walked side by side. The silence between them was louder than the noises of the quiet little town.

Treading lightly, Reese decided to take the bull by the horns and broach the subject. "You spoke to Taylor," he remarked softly.

Joss turned her head in surprise. "I—how did you know?"

"I was going to say that you don't seem like yourself. Then I noticed the phone." He smiled reassuringly. "How is he?" he inquired.

"Great. He's on his way to Austria—Vienna, then Salzburg, I think," Joss relayed Taylor's itinerary.

"Ah, the home of the Von Trapp Family." Reese almost appeared smug as he relayed the historical information.

Joss rolled her eyes. "Really? Is there any place you haven't been to?" She tried to keep the anger out of her voice, but it slipped in. She couldn't help being jealous.

"A couple," he admitted.

"Okay. Okay. But do you have to rub it in?" she replied tersely.

"I told you I did some traveling," he argued in his defense.

"You're going to be doing some more traveling when you walk back to Manhattan," she groused. Between Taylor and John, she felt as though she had never left the inner city. Man, her life sucked!

"Once I get the car back," she finished with her threat.

"Speaking of car, I spoke to Brent. He said it should be ready for pick up on Monday," Reese relayed the news.

"Monday?! I thought he said it would be ready today?" Joss felt her temper start to boil. What was going on? Obviously something or someone was conspiring against them, she reasoned to herself. And if she had to put money on the someone, it would be Finch. But why?

"His shop has a crew of six and one computer to make a diagnostics test. Twenty cars with engine trouble is not an easy task to rectify. And tomorrow is Sunday," he laid out the reasons logically and precisely enough for the lawyer in Joss to accept without debate.

Joss grudgingly accepted his explanation. "What does Sunday have to do with anything?"

"The town is shut down," Reese replied. "Businesses, schools...even repair shops. Churches will be open, though."

"Oh." Had she gotten so caught up in the rush of a big metropolis that she had forgotten how the rest of the world observed the weekend? She grimaced at what her Nana would be saying if she were here.

"And then there is the Apple Festival today and tomorrow."

"I forgot."

"I thought we'd go."

"We?" Did he mean the two of them? Together?

"Sure. Why not?"

"I don't know." Joss hesitated at the thought of attending something so intimate. Besides, it wasn't as though they were residents. What would it hurt if they missed it?

"Have you ever been to one?" Reese challenged.

"In Long Island and New York City?" Joss scoffed. "You have to be kidding. Although I'm sure you've been to one."

"I've been to a few," he answered but didn't elaborate.

The change in his voice and mood wasn't lost on her. She wanted to ask, but she saw the way his eyes became guarded. Maybe later. "Okay," she gave into the request. "What else?"

"Well, Detective Carter, if I didn't know any better I would presume that you suspect I am holding something back," Reese tried to sound offended, but his eyes were soft.

Joss looked serious. "I know you, John. And you can't lie to save your life."

"I can lie." _I just can't lie to you,_ he finished silently.

"Liar. What's up your sleeve?"

"What would you say if we left here on Monday and continued north?" he proposed the plan.

"North? You mean drive north?"

"Why not?"

"What's north?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Does it matter?"

"I have to be back to work in two weeks."

"So do I."

"But you want to keep traveling to...somewhere - with no set destination in mind?"

"Yes."

"What will we find?"

"We won't know until we get there."

Every instinct inside of her was saying no. _Turn him down, Joss; tell him no._ _Tell him you need to get back to Manhattan,_ the little voice inside her head commanded. Instead, she said, "Only if you promise to get me back in time to do some furniture shopping." _Where had_ that _come from?!_

"You drive a hard bargain, Detective," Reese chided.

"Shake on it." Joss stuck out her hand. Reese shook to seal the deal.

"Thank you, Joss." Stepping out, their footsteps fell into place.

"Hmpf! You're going furniture shopping with me. And maybe get some new shoes, too. A whole lot of shoes," she added the last part under her breath.

Reese's only response was to smile.  
********

"How are our mutual friends?" Zoe asked as she sidled up behind Fusco. A part of her was disappointed that he didn't flinch.

"They haven't killed each other, if that's what you mean," Fusco muttered from behind the newspaper. What was up with secret operatives sneaking up behind him?

"Killing each other isn't what I was laying bets on," Zoe purred.

"You're a sick puppy." Fusco folded the paper and placed it on the bench. "Is that why we all conspired to get them out of Manhattan?"

Zoe shrugged. "Maybe."

"Carter lost everything she owned; I lost a great suit—" His rant bordered on whining, which Zoe cut off sharply.

"Which I'm sure you have a few more just like it."

"That's beside the point," Fusco snapped. "I liked _that_ one. But I'm sure we're not doing all of this so they could get away and knock boots. Are we?" He hesitated at the possibility of his mutual friends hooking up on a permanent basis.

"What do you think?"

He shook his head. "They don't pay me enough to do this."

"You're not getting paid at all, Lionel," she reminded him.

"Heh. Who needs Mr. Sarcasm when I have you," Lionel stated in a heavily sardonic tone. "Did you get any leads on the information I sent you?"

"Maybe," Zoe coyly replied. Even though she didn't like to play games, she took a particular thrill out of toying the detective. She liked the way he flustered so easily—especially when the topic was their mutual friends.

"Maybe? Is that the best you could do? I thought you knew the ins and outs of this city."

"I know this city very well; I guess you can say I know where the bodies are buried." She reached into her expensive leather purse, pulling out a folded piece of notebook paper. She handed it over.

"Especially the hard to find ones."

"What's this?" Lionel unfolded the paper and read the address.

"The information you need. You know, Lionel, you're wound up pretty tight; I think I can find a nice lady to help you relax."

Lionel narrowed his eyes and gruffed, "You know nice people? Thanks for the offer, but I can get my own dates. And my own relaxation."

"A little more than I needed to know."

"You did ask."

"Suit yourself. Do you have my payment?" Zoe extended her hand in anticipation of the reward for a job well done.

Lionel picked up the brown paper bag and dropped it unceremoniously into her palm. "Here. This should cover it." Zoe opened the bag.

"Hmmm. Vanilla. At least you remembered the sprinkles. Have a good day, Detective." She turned on her heel and walked away. Despite his cavalier attitude, she was positive the information was in good hands.

Lionel picked up the second bag, opened it, and reached inside to pull out the chocolate eclair. He glanced at the paper in his lap. No doubt what he was looking for was at the address, but he was going to need backup. Shaw wasn't doing anything, he reasoned; she could come along and kick down a door or two—if needed.

But first things first. He took a bite, his teeth sinking into the decadent frosting covering the rich bread crust. He closed his eyes in ecstasy.


	17. Chapter 17

_Extra special long chapter. I think our CaReese is falling for each other. What do you think?_

* * *

 **The Greatest Reward**

"Wow!" Joss exclaimed on a sigh, and leaned back on the bench. "I didn't know it was going to be like this." Her muscles were tired and her belly was almost full. Dare she say she felt...content?

"The rides? The food?"

"All of the above." Joss took a bite of the homemade apple fritter. Okay, so it was her third one today, but it was so good. And after all, it was her vacation, right? There were no calories on vacations.

"I'm glad you like it." Reese sipped the ice cold lemonade. It was almost as good as he remembered his grandmother making. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was back home.

Joss saw the change in his expression. "What's wrong?" she asked with concern.

"Nothing," he evaded.

"John, you look...sad."

"Nothing is wrong, Joss. I'm just enjoying the moment."

She scoffed. "You have a helluva way of showing it." She thrust the fritter at him. "Bite?"

Reese shook his head. "Uh...no." He wasn't hungry, but he had a craving. A yearning. A feeling to want something that he couldn't put his finger on. For the past week he had nearly been joined at the hip with Joss Carter, and he found himself liking it. He hadn't wanted to. No, he had just wanted to help her out and extend the hand of friendship. But now...something changed—whether with him, or her—he didn't know. Things weren't the same. Yet, there was that little something inside that was scared.

"Did you go to things like this when you were a kid?" Joss inquired.

"Yes," he replied but didn't go into specifics. Right now he wanted to experience the moment without memories interfering. He wanted this memory fresh so he could look back on it someday without regret.

"Where did you live when you were a kid?"

"Washington. A little town about an hour northeast of Seattle."

"Your parents were what?"

"My step-father owned a farm."

"Oh."

"We had an orchard, and every end of summer we would attend the local apple festival." Reese smiled at the memory of picking the apples and helping haul the bushels to town. "But the festivities were never this elaborate." But then again the times had been different. Or maybe he hadn't appreciated it.

"Was the food this good?" Joss asked as she finished off the last bite.

"Better."

"Better? What were you eating, golden apples?"

"Actually, I tended to stay with the caramel apples and cotton candy, so I can't pass judgment," Reese confessed sheepishly.

"You into sweets? I guess that would explain your aversion to them," she chided.

"I don't have an aversion to them," he contradicted.

Joss rolled her eyes and tossed her hair. "Oh, this coming from the man who passes on dessert." Reaching over, Reese grabbed the remaining fritter and took a huge bite. "Hey!"

"Delicious," Reese pronounced, chewing slowly.

"I stand corrected." Her eyes locked with Reese's. That strange feeling began again in her stomach. But this time it was more of a warm, steady, welcoming feeling.

"Hey, John," Brent called out with a wave. He hurried over.

"Hi, Brent," Joss greeted happily. "Are you here to tell us that the car is ready and we can pick it up?" she teased, although a small part of her didn't want the car to be ready. In fact, a part of her wanted to tell him to keep the car. Forever.

"No. It will be ready on Monday as promised. I wanted to steal John for a while."

Joss raised her eyebrows. "Oh? Nothing sinister, I hope."

"Not exactly. Greg Lewis broke his leg, so we're a man down for a few events," Brent explained in a rush.

"Events? What kind of events?" Reese asked with hesitation.

"Tug-O-War. Three legged race. Logging. A mini-triathlon."

"I'm not ready," Reese tried to bail out before the request went any further.

"It's not about readiness. We just need an anchor. The team we're going up against always wins, and we need all the manpower and muscle we can get," Brent said. "If you don't mind?"

Reese turned to look at Joss for a life-line. "Joss and I were..." Instead, Joss patted him on the arm.

"No, honey," she said with sweet sarcasm, a large smile pasted on her face. "Why don't you go with Brent and have some fun? It will be a change of pace from shooting kneecaps."

"I thought—"

"No, no. I'm fine. Go ahead," she shooed him with her hand. Reese shot her a surprised look. "Go."

"I'll bring him back in one piece," Brent promised.

"Do I at least get a good-bye kiss?" Reese baited. Joss ignored him by taking a big bite of her dessert. "Thanks." He fell in step with Brent.

"Win one for me," she called out. Reese's only response was to shoot her a look over his shoulder.

Grinning to herself, Joss wrapped the remaining pastry and placed it in her purse. She would save it for later. Pulling out her phone, she looked to see if she had any missed calls. Nothing. She was tempted to call her mother, but what could she tell her? Somehow explaining that she was stranded in the middle of nowhere and attending an apple festival with a wanted fugitive, was not quite the conversation she wanted to have at the moment.

She did the math and realized that it was night time in Austria. She sighed. There was little chance that Taylor would want to talk to her while out with his friends. Maybe she could go over to one of the tables and pick up a few souvenirs for her friends and family. No doubt that Fusco would love getting a huge jar of apple butter.

Standing up, she brushed her hands over her jeans.

"You must be Joss," a sweet feminine voice greeted. Joss looked up to see a tall, willowy red head walking toward her.

"Hello," Joss returned carefully. Even in the middle of nowhere her police instincts were on high alert.

"It's so nice to meet you. I'm Jenny. Brent's wife."

The antenna went down. False alarm. Joss smiled. "Nice to meet you."

"Brent told me all about you and your husband, and how you came to get stranded in our little town," Jenny said with a laugh that was so contagious, Joss found herself chuckling.

"It was a series of mysterious events," Joss admitted. "Twenty cars with engine trouble in one day. Has that ever happened before?"

Jenny shook her head. "Never. If he gets thirty cars a month, we're living high on the hog. At least now we can meet the mortgage this month and set aside a little for the munchkin's Christmas." A gurgle, followed by a rasberry, turned Joss's attention to the baby carrier draped over Jenny's torso.

"Oh," she breathed as she took in the auburn haired, green eyed baby girl. "Aren't you precious." She had thought Leila was an angel, but she had nothing on the beautiful doll staring at her with wide-eyes.

"What's her name?" Joss asked.

"Elizabeth. We call her Beth." Jenny looked at her watch. "Let's walk," she invited. "The Tug-O-War is about to begin." The two women began to walk together, but their steps weren't rushed. It was a comfortable kind of feeling that the two women had seemed to find.

"Brent tells me that you and your husband are from New York City?" Jenny asked politely.

"Manhattan, actually."

"That sounds exciting. I've never really been outside of Pennsylvania. What am I saying?" Jenny asked rhetorically with a small laugh. "I've never really been outside of this little town."

"Oh."

"Not that I'm complaining," Jenny amended quickly so that Joss didn't get the wrong idea. "I love it here, and I never want to leave. But sometimes I wonder what is going on in the world."

"It's nicer here. Believe me."

"How did you find us?"

"Letting the computer plan our route from Atlantic City," Joss groused. It still irked her how the computer could have gotten so out of whack. Weren't they supposed to be reliant?

"Honeymoon?"

Joss tried not to let her mouth fall open. "W-w-what?"

"You and John."

"No. No. Weekend getaway."

"Ah. Romantic, either way. So, how long have you two been married?"

"We've been together for four years," Joss answered honestly without divulging too much information. Still, she crossed her fingers.

"How did you meet?"

"The Army."

"So, you're a veteran. Thank you for your service. I thought about joining, but...I wanted to finish college; then Brent asked me to marry him. Before I knew it, we were opening the repair shop, living hand to mouth for a while, then this bundle of joy fell into our laps." Jenny ran her hand lovingly over Beth's soft hair.

"I guess you could say that life had other plans for me."

"How long have you and Brent been married?" Joss turned the question back around.

"Six years. But we've been together since the second grade. He's always been my first love. Even when he went through his rebellious stage and everyone in town was taking bets that he was going to wind up in jail...or dead. But I had faith in him and saw the real man under that bad boy persona. He said I saved him. But he saved me too." Jenny blinked back the mist clouding her vision.

They approached the roped off area where the teams were gathered. Two dozen men were milling around as they waited for their orders. Joss scanned the area until she found Reese. Her breath caught in her throat.

He had cast aside his fisherman's wharf style cable knit sweater, and was wearing a dark blue t-shirt that showed off his well-toned biceps and broad chest. On his hands he wore thick, brown, well-worn gloves. He was bent over adjusting his shoelaces, the sun bounced off his hair to form a halo. He looked up and smiled. Joss felt her knees try to give out. _He is gorgeous!_

Joss tried to swallow, but her tongue refused to work. Maybe once or twice she had wondered what could be under that tailor made suit, but now that she could actually see with her own eyes, she wondered how she could have been that blind.

The whistle blew loud to let everyone know they needed to take their assigned places. The crowd moved forward to get a better look. The sound of the starter pistol caused most people to jump, then the game was on.

With everything they had, Brent's team tugged and pulled until the sweat poured down their faces. Muscles bulging and feet dug into the turf, short grunts for oxygen and expletives filled the air as both sides gave it their all in an attempt for victory. The seconds passed into minutes as neither side refused to budge. But Joss's eyes were only on one person.

The cheering started low, then cascaded into shouts and encouraging cheers for each side that seemed to drown out everything else. When a foot slipped to give Brent's side the upper hand, cheers were followed by hand clapping and foot stomping.

"GO! GO! GO!"

"PULL! PULL! PULL!"

Then with everything they had, Brent's team gave one final tug to pull the other side over the line and face first into the mud hole. Happy shouts and screams of victory rang thru the air. Wives and girlfriends rushed over to hug the victorious, and to help the defeated. Joss was unsure as what to do.

"Are you okay?" Jenny asked. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn that Joss was looking at her husband as though she had just seen him for the first time. But that wasn't possible...was it?

"I'm fine. I'm just..." Joss tried to find the words to assure the young woman that everything was alright, but her mind was empty of coherent thought.

"Here. Hold her." Before Joss could decline, Jenny thrust the baby at her. "I'll get you something to drink."

"I don't—" she protested, but it was too late. Standing still, with the baby in her hands, Joss tried to think of something intelligent to say. Taking the initiative, Beth made an attempt to speak.

"Well, hello to you, too, beautiful," Joss replied. Her heart melted. "I'm sure your momma's going to back any minute," she assured her charge. Beth cooed in response.

Reese took the congratulatory slaps on the back in stride, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He thought he had been in good shape when he picked up the rope, but the three minute ordeal showed him that he needed to pick things up with his personal trainer. That, or he was getting old.

Looking over the crowd, he tried to find Joss. He was sure he had seen her before the pistol went off, but now he couldn't find her. He saw an auburn haired baby, then his heart fell to his knees. His brain immediately made a picture of Joss holding their child. He shook his head. _Where the hell had that come from?!_

Hurrying over, he covered the area in a few steps so he was standing face to face with Joss.

"You came."

"You won."

"Who is this?" Reese asked.

"Beth. She is Brent and Jenny's daughter." Joss cuddled the baby in her arms, unaware of the way Reese's eyes drank in the Madonna With Child resemblance.

Beth looked at Reese, cooed, held out her arms. Reese looked to Joss for assistance.

"She wants to be held."

"I can't..."

"Here." Joss carefully handed the baby over. "You got broken in with Leila, so I'm sure you know what to do." She watched as Beth sized up the man holding her, then smiled a toothless grin that seemed to block the sun. "She likes you."

"Yeah, she does." But Reese's eyes were on Joss, not the baby. The spark of electricity snapped between them. Both tried to think of something to say.

"Hey!" Brent said and gave Reese a congratulatory pat on the back. "Great job, John!" He looked at Joss. "Your husband is...incredible. Too bad we can't have more like him. We might have won that trophy a few years sooner."

"Well, I do like to refer to him as Superman," Joss replied tongue in cheek.

"Hi, honey," Jenny greeted and kissed Brent. "Good job."

"Well, we couldn't have done it without John," Brent praised. "He's the man of the hour."

Jenny didn't miss the look between Reese and Joss. "What are you two doing tonight?" she asked. "How about you come over for dinner? It's just pizza from the neighbourhood pizzeria—not like the New York style you're used to, but it's edible," she invited.

"What do you say, Joss?" Reese asked.

Joss hesitated. They weren't exactly undercover, but in assuming the roles of man and wife, they were very vulnerable that their cover could be blown. But they only had two more nights, she reasoned to herself, what could it hurt?

"Okay."


	18. Chapter 18

**The Greatest Reward**

"They are a nice couple," Jenny remarked out of the blue as she rinsed off the plate and handed it to Brent to dry. "I like them." Standing beside the kitchen sink, she dipped the wash rag in the hot, soapy water. It was their nightly ritual to wash the dishes after the baby had been put to bed. Jenny relished in the peace and quiet.

"They seemed okay, I guess," Brent observed casually with a shrug. To him, John and Joss had appeared to be in love—although not like other couples he had seen. But what did he know? "They seemed a little distant."

"They're from New York City; I think it's bred into them to be distant toward people," Jenny theorized logically. She had noticed it from Joss, but she chalked it up to fatigue and stress. "At least, they are always like that on 'Law & Order'."

"Makes sense." Brent accepted what she said with another shrug. He wasn't into psycho-analyzing anything other than mechanical engines, and he was fine with that. He dried the plate and added it to the stack in the cupboard. Sure it wasn't manly to dry the dishes, but he liked the quality time he got to spend with his wife, so he didn't complain.

"I wish they would stay," Jenny said wistfully. She liked them, and they seemed so lost. Was it wrong that she wanted to take them in?

"What do you mean?" Did Jenny mean stay in town or stay the night? He didn't know how to answer, so he stayed quiet. However, he knew her mind when it came to strays. And it didn't help that she had that look.

"You know, she isn't wearing a ring."

Now he was really confused. Brent set the towel on the counter and looked at his wife. "A ring?"

"A wedding ring. Joss doesn't have one on her finger."

"I didn't notice." And he hadn't. He just assumed it was there because every married woman wore a ring, right? Of course Jenny would have picked that out in a minute.

Jenny rinsed out the glasses and stacked them in the drainer. "I think they are having problems."

"You don't know that," Brent objected.

Jenny wrung out the dishrag and folded it over the edge of the sink. She pulled out the stopper and waited for the water to drain, then cleaned off the porcelain until it sparkled.

"They went to Atlantic City to save their marriage," she revealed the bit of information she had gleaned earlier.

"They said that?"

Jenny lifted one shoulder, dropped it. "Not in so many words."

"Lots of people go to Atlantic City for a second honeymoon," Brent defended his new found friends' choice of vacation spot.

"Name one."

Put on the spot, Brent fumbled to find an answer to defend his remark. "Uh..."

"Thought so. Any way, she called it a 'weekend get-a-way'." Jenny dried her hands on the tea towel. "I think they are trying to save their marriage."

"Okay, Dr. Phil," Brent teased, "what makes you think you're correct?"

"Weekend get-a-way, then getting lost in the middle of nowhere, no ring, and then looking at her husband as though she had never seen him before," Jenny listed all of her observations matter of factly. "Either they running away from somebody and pretending to be married, or they are having marital trouble."

"Jenny..." Brent cautioned. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was concocting a plan to help their new friends cross some imaginary bridge in their relationship. He needed to cut that horse off at the pass.

"Maybe they just need a shove in the right direction," she reasoned passionately. Was it wrong to want everyone to be as happy as she and Brent were?

"Well, they are leaving tomorrow to go back to New York," Brent informed her. Jenny sighed in defeat.

"If only I had a little time..."

Brent leaned in and kissed her. "I'm sure they will survive without your matchmaking interference," he soothed.

Jenny feigned being insulted. "Matchmaking interference? I'll have you know, buddy, that my skills managed to land me the best husband on planet earth," she huffed and crossed her arms over her breasts.

Brent grinned. "Yeah, it did," he boasted.

"So, why don't you kiss me before he gets home?" Jenny asked coyly. Her eyes danced with mischief.

Brent opened his mouth, then closed it. "You rascal. Come here." He picked Jenny up in his arms. "You want kissing? I'll show you some kissing," he vowed before closing his mouth over hers.  
*******

"I like them," Joss observed softly. She rubbed her arms. The wind was slowly picking up, and the temperature had dropped more than a few degrees since earlier in the day. Now she wished she had brought her jacket.

"Me too," Reese replied honestly. He looked at Joss. "Cold?"

"A little," she admitted. Would it be forward of her to reach out and take his hand? The thought crossed her mind. Before she could find out, Reese stopped walking so he could slip out of his jacket. He placed it over her shoulders.

"Here."

Joss smiled. "Thanks." She snuggled deep into the warmth. Taking in a breath, she smelled the musky cologne he wore. Her heart picked up speed, but she tried to concentrate on something else. Anything else than the man standing beside her.

Starting a pace, they quickly fell in step with each other—probably more from their military training than from habit. The night sky was full of bright stars—although a thin stray cloud quickly passed over the new moon—and so quiet. Manhattan had only been quiet once in her lifetime, but deathly quiet didn't count.

"Do you think it's possible?" Joss asked out of the blue.

"Do I think what is possible?" Reese replied carefully.

"Happily ever after."

Reese felt his heart skip a beat. A part of him wondered where the question had come from and why she was asking it; yet another part—the lost part of his soul—wondered if it was a trick question meant to set him up for a fall.

He shrugged. "For some people, I suppose," he carefully evaded answering directly.

"What about people like us?" Joss probed deeper.

"I've never had to worry about it." And he didn't. Not really. He had stopped worrying about forever after long before the CIA had stolen his life and any chance at normalcy.

"Never?"

Reese paused. He didn't want to disappoint her, but he also didn't want her to set her hopes high. His heart cracked just a tiny bit.

"Never. What about you?" he volleyed back before she could hit him with another question or search for a reason for his pessimism.

"Once upon a time. Every girl dreams of a Prince Charming riding in and saving her," Joss mused with just a touch of irony. "Heh. Then life hits her hard between the eyes and the prince of her heart turns out to be a frog... One of many frogs."

"Any come close?"

"Two." Joss sighed. "At least I got Taylor out of one of them."

"Beats warts," Reese said.

Despite herself, Joss chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah, it does." Her heart sighed at the memory of when true love soured and left her feeling like a failure. It had been one of the worst moments of her life, but she did get Taylor out of it, so maybe there was a victory after all, she thought to herself quietly, and remembered the morning Taylor was handed to her.

"Her name was Jessica."

Joss shook her head so she could come back to the present. "Huh?"

"The woman I was in love—thought I was in love with; her name was Jessica," Reese confessed softly.

Joss hesitated to reveal that she already knew the truth. "I know," she admitted. She waited for a reaction, anything, but Reese said nothing. "You're not angry?"

"I figured after Rikers you might launch your own investigation into my past. You are a better detective than I gave you credit," he said with admiration. "So...you know...everything?"

"Just bits and pieces. And...that...part. But I don't know everything. What happened?" Joss asked.

"In a nutshell... I couldn't be what she wanted."

"What did she want?"

"The perfect man. The perfect husband. Someone who could be there for her," Reese groused. "Everything I wasn't."

Joss blinked in surprise. "Wow! When you set yourself up for defeat, you don't spare anything, do you?"

Now it was Reese's turn to be stunned. "What do you mean?"

"Did you ever ask her what she wanted? Or did you just assume she wanted that?"

"Doesn't every woman?"

Joss's chuckle was sardonic. "I am going to take that as a no."

"That's not fair!" Reese protested in his defense.

"John, you and Paul weren't the only two men I've ever been around; I did have a life before and after you two arrived on the scene. And you are easier to read than a book."

"I am not," he argued in his defense.

"Heh. I called it that night at the eighth. Remember?"

"Okay, you win."

Joss sighed and cut her victory short. "But I know how you feel because I've been there too. It's not any fun letting that special someone go, is it?"

"I tried not to think about it," Reese replied, but his tone was unconvincing. "I've come to accept that there are some things that are out of your hands."

"I understand."

Reese stopped walking. "Once in a while I think about moving on." Actually it was more than once in a while since the day he let Joss move into his loft.

"You do?"

Reese reached out to cup her cheek in his hand. Joss felt her heart pick up speed.

"Like when?"

"Like tonight. I want to kiss you, Joss." Before she could respond, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Ever so gently he kissed her, moving his lips over her softness until she returned in kind.

Wrapping her arms around Reese's neck, Joss pulled him close. Never could she have imagined his lips would be so soft, or that his kiss would be more intoxicating than the strongest liquor on the market. She could drink from him all night—maybe forever.

And Reese felt the same way as he wrapped his arms around her waist and molded her to him. So tough and gentle at the same time. He could drink from her well of sweetness for the rest of his life. He wanted her in a way he had never wanted another woman. Startled at the realisation, he pulled back.

Joss looked up at him in confusion at the way he abruptly ended their kiss. "What's wrong?"

Reese pressed his forehead to hers and drew in a ragged breath. He needed to be alone, go for a walk, stay secluded for a long while, anything it took until he could get himself back together.

"Go inside, Joss."

"John..." The kiss had been so unexpected yet welcomed. It had rocked her world. Surely he had felt it, too. What was wrong?

"Please, Joss. For me." Reese stepped back.

"Okay." Joss pulled the jacket tighter around herself to ward off the sudden and abrupt chill. "I'll see you when I see you." Turning on her heel, she hurried down the pathway to the large wrap-around porch. Pulling open the screen door, she waited a second to see if she was being followed, but when she turned around, Reese was gone.

Feeling a tiny twinge in her heart, she turned the knob on the large oak door and let herself inside. Gently she closed it behind her.


	19. Chapter 19

**The Greatest Reward**

"Hello Lionel," Reese greeted into the phone with undisguised agitation that the detective had interrupted him during a moment of self-reflection.

"Hey, you're still alive! Ain't that something!" Lionel crowed over the line.

Reese rolled his eyes at the unspoken insult. "I guess miracles never cease. Do you realize what time it is?"

"Depends. Did I interrupt you at a bad time?"

"Lionel..." Reese cautioned.

"I take that as a no. So, where are you?"

"Don't tell me that you miss me."

"Not really. No," Lionel admitted. "But the paperwork on Carter's desk is piling up."

"Nice to know you've kept on top of things while she's been gone," Reese replied with unveiled sarcasm.

"Hey, she gets to go on a three week vacation while I'm stuck here doing all the work," Lionel replied angrily.

"I'm sure it's been all uphill for you."

"Yeah. Besides, Manhattan just isn't the same without the Dynamic Duo taking down the bad guys," Lionel groused.

"When you say it like that, Lionel, I almost think you miss me," Reese teased with mock sincerity.

"Pffft! In your dreams Caped Crusader. All I said that the island isn't the same without you. I didn't say the place went to hell. There is a difference."

"Ah, well. You have Shaw," Reese soothed. "It's just like having me there."

"Yeah. If you were a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter."

"It can't be that bad."

"Bad is an understatement. You might have a death wish, but Ninja Princess doesn't care. No matter what, I feel safer with you."

A tiny smile tugged at Reese's lips. "I've been in worse places."

"Unless you're trapped in hell with four burning walls on all sides, you don't have any right to complain. I have two women and a four-eyed computer genius running me all over town while I have real work I could be doing," Lionel griped.

"That explains why the paperwork is piling up on Joss's desk."

"Tell you what, why don't you take that fancy badge you snagged from some poor schmuck and come play cop for a while, and I'll kick my feet up in paradise?" Lionel fired back.

"We're in central Pennsylvania."

Pause. "Oh. Really?"

"Where did you think we were?"

Lionel shrugged as he mulled over the possible destination sites. "I don't know...Hawai'i, maybe?"

"Well, sometimes you can't pick and choose your resort. But this is nicer."

Pennsylvania nicer than a tropical paradise in the middle of the Pacific?! Lionel had to shake his head to clear it. "I guess. Although I'd set my goal a little higher next time. I need to make sure to tell Glasses to have my car break down somewhere near Vegas when it's my time to kick up my heels."

"Unless you're flying."

"Wise guy."

"Is there a reason for this phone call, Lionel?" Reese wondered.

"How's Carter?"

"Better."

"Did you get her to relax?"

"Relax?" Reese echoed.

"You know: make her kick her feet up, let loose, let her hair down."

"We went to an apple festival."

"Whoa! With all of that excitement, Carter may not be able to ever get wound up again."

"Until she partners back up with you again," Reese finished.

"You might want to lay off the apple cider, pal, it's making you think you're a comedian."

"Heh."

"You get to first base yet?"

Reese stopped cold at the question. "What are you talking about, Lionel?"

"First base, second base, third base, home-run. You know...going all the way."

"I'm not following you."

"Wow! You have taken some major blows to the head. First base: kiss her. Make out under the stars. Second base: some light petting. Get touchy-feely while whispering unintelligible words of endearment or naughty words of suggestion. Third base: skin to skin—"

"Lionel..." Reese's voice held a warning for the detective to stop—which was promptly ignored.

"Or maybe woo her with some apple cider," Lionel suggested an alternative to his earlier remarks.

"I know how to woo a woman," Reese angrily replied in his defense.

"I can see. That's why you take them to apple festivals in the middle of nowhere."

"Lionel..."

"Carter isn't just any woman, Superman," Lionel pointed out matter of factly. "She may seem tough, but she is a woman behind that tough exterior and detective's badge."

"Lionel..."

"A woman needs to be wooed and wined and dined. She needs to be treated like a queen and a princess rolled into one," Lionel listed one by one.

"Lionel..."

"And then you romance her like she's the only woman on earth. Then she'll be yours."

Reese drank in the information. He replied, "Why are you divorced?"

"Because I didn't take my own advice."

"Hmmm..."

"Hmmm all you want, Wonder Boy, but mark my word: I'll be there to hold you up when you're standing at the altar."

"I need you to do me a favour."

"Do I get to rummage thru your gun collection?" Lionel asked with unabashed eagerness.

"No."

"Killjoy."

"I need you to do some shopping."

"A ring?"

"Living room furniture, Lionel."

"I repeat my earlier remark: killjoy."

"There might be something in it for you."

"Like last time?" Lionel huffed. "You stuck me with Helga the German massage therapist who contorted and twisted my body into a pretzel? That was just a television I hauled up."

"It's furniture; it's going to be delivered. I just need you to be there and make sure it fits the room. If it doesn't, I want you to replace it."

"Do I look like Martha Stewart to you?" Lionel huffed.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

Lionel knew an unspoken insult when he heard it. "What makes you think I know interior design?" he asked defensively.

"You took two semesters in college. Plus a Home Ec class."

"How—? No. I don't want to know. I can't believe you bought her furniture."

"Why not?"

"You don't buy her furniture, you lug! You buy her a ring!" Short of spelling it out, how else was he going to make his friends understand that they were destined to be together?

"I'm texting you the information. Just be there when it gets there, okay?" Reese spoke as though he hadn't heard a word his side-kick had said.

"Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you get me a Swedish masseuse, thick accent. Long legs. Firm but tender digits," Lionel listed off his requirements for the next therapist.

"Maybe."

"Just make sure it happens. Got that, Glasses?"

"Finch isn't monitoring the call, Lionel." That had been one of the requirements he set down when he was ordered by the boss to take off and have fun. There was no way he could relax with Finch hearing every little thing.

"Well, make sure he knows. Now go kiss Carter senseless."

"Good-bye, Lionel." Reese disconnected the call before the detective could reply.

However, on the other end, Lionel held the phone in his hand with a big grin. "You already have. Second base, here they come!" he chortled.  
*********

"Where did you go last night?" Joss wondered over the rim of her coffee cup.

"Nowhere."

"I woke up and you weren't in the room."

"I slept in the chair," Reese deflected answering directly. He had slept in a chair, but he didn't say which one. And it had been the most uncomfortable sleep in his life, except for the time he had had to use a rock as a pillow while out on patrol in the mountains of Afghanistan.

"It was just a kiss."

"I know that Joss," Reese said calmly but his hand shook ever so slightly as he picked up the carafe and poured a generous amount of coffee into his mug. The self-introspection obviously hadn't worked, he cursed to himself.

"I liked it." Joss waited for a response, but it didn't come. "I take it that you didn't."

A flicker of hurt crossed Reese's face. "Joss—" The sound of footsteps interrupted his protest.

"There you are!" Ellen greeted happily as she pushed open the door between the kitchen and the dining room. "I wanted to catch you before you left."

"We were about to get the car," Reese replied.

"You must stay for breakfast," Ellen insisted. "I made pineapple upside-down pancakes."

"We need to leave."

Joss shot him a look. "John."

Ellen's face fell. "I'm sorry to hear that." There was something special yet sad about the couple sitting in front of her. They appeared to be in love, but it was though something was keeping them apart.

"I would love some," Joss spoke up to override Reese's decision.

Now it was Reese's turn to shoot her a look. "Joss—"

Joss's smile was saccharin sweet. Her back straightened so she was at her full height. "I outrank you, remember?" she hissed thru clenched teeth. Reese knew that look and that tone. With a nod, he backed down.

"Yes."

Joss turned to face Ellen. "We would love to stay for breakfast." She pushed the chair back. "Do you need any help?"

Surprised by the sudden turn around, Ellen gave a hesitant smile to her house guests. "Not really," she declined. "But I'll let you help me set the table." Turning on her heel, Ellen went back to the kitchen. Joss hurried behind her.

Sitting alone at the table, Reese heard the chattering between Ellen and Joss, but he couldn't make out the words. Slowly he sipped his coffee.  
********

"Mom! You should have seen it!" Taylor's voice came over the phone line. "It was awesome! Even more than the one they showed in the movie!"

"What was incredible?"

"The Von Trapp mansion."

"Really?" Joss tried to feign enthusiasm, but her thoughts were somewhere else.

"Amazing. The tour to us to every spot featured in the film. It was so cool."

"Wish I could have been there," Joss replied, only half meaning it. For some reason she could explain, her jealousy was fading away. She was truly happy for her son.

"I got your text the other day. Sorry I didn't text back," Taylor apologized.

"That's okay."

"You said you're in Pennsylvania?"

"Right in the heart of."

"Wow. When I said you needed to get out and experience life, I didn't think you would take me literally," Taylor teased with a laugh. "So, have you seen any Amish people?"

"We're not that central. More like between Pittsburgh and Philly."

"Is your guy friend with you?"

"Taylor!"

"Well, I didn't think you would get in the car by yourself and drive to the middle of nowhere. I know you better than that."

"Somebody is going to be paying for his own meals and books and computers if he doesn't watch it," Joss warned in her best mother tone.

"Didn't say anything, Mom. So, what do they do for fun out there?"

"I went to an apple festival." Somehow it didn't sound half as much fun as it had been. But had it been fun because John had made her experience another side of life, right? Or was it something else? Joss felt her cheeks grow warm.

"Mom, with all due respect, we need to trade places. I thought I was the one having all the fun backpacking across Europe. Now I see why you sent me over here."

"Taylor." First warning.

"All that excitement, Mom, you might want to watch your blood pressure. I mean, taking down bad guys and filing reports are one thing, but apple festivals... You might want to consult your doctor when you get back," Taylor laughed.

"Taylor." Second warning.

"Come on, Mom. I'm just teasing you. But I thought you might go to Vegas or somewhere romantic with that boyfriend of yours."

"He's not my boyfriend, T," Joss corrected. But her heart beat fast at the thought of John Reese being her boyfriend.

"Guy friend, then. Go out and be spontaneous, like, you know. Maybe you two can get to first base."

Joss appeared flummoxed by the statement. "First base?" she echoed.

Whoopsie! "Uhhh..." Knowing he had stepped in it big time, Taylor tried to backtrack. "Baseball."

"Baseball?"

"Hey, my friends are calling me. Gotta go. I mailed you some postcards and I sent some to Grandma. Talk to you later. Love you. Bye," Taylor hurriedly rushed so he could get off the phone.

"I love you, too, Taylor," Joss replied, but the line beeped twice to notify that the line had been disconnected. She touched the screen to turn off the phone. "Strange," she muttered. She heard the car pull up and stop. She hurried down the steps of the porch to the walk path. Before she got to the sidewalk, she heard her name being called.

"Joss! Wait!" She turned around to see Jenny running toward her, pushing the stroller. "Whew! I caught you." Jenny pressed her hand to her heaving chest as she tried to catch her breath.

"Hi Jenny." Joss bent down to touch Beth's soft cheek. "Hi Princess." She straightened up. "We were just getting ready to leave."

"I have a little something for your trip." She handed over the small picnic basket. Bending over, she unbuckled Beth from the stroller restraints.

Joss took the handles of the wooden basket. It was heavy, but not too heavy. Her nose twitched at the delicious aroma sneaking out from under the wooden lids.

"Thank you."

"Brent's mom sent it over. It's a little something just in case your GPS sends you in the wrong direction again, well... You won't starve." Jenny gave a wide smile that hid her disappointment. She had come to like her two unexpected guests and had hoped they could have stayed longer, but it was inevitable that the big city would call them back.

"I appreciate it, and John does, too."

"Have a safe drive." Jenny impulsively hugged Joss. She pulled back. "You know, the college is looking for a couple of good people...to teach." She planted a seed of thought.

"Thanks, but Manhattan is home."

Jenny lifted her shoulder, then dropped it. "I know. I should let you go." She watched as Joss put the basket in the backseat, before settling in the passenger seat. There was one last wave good-bye before the car was put in drive.

With a sad heart, Jenny watched the car pull away from the curb and head down the road before disappearing into the bright northwestern horizon.

Following her mother's gaze, Beth's chubby little hand opened and closed in farewell. "Back!"

Bowled over by her child's first word, Jenny didn't try to hide the tears of joy and sadness. She kissed Beth's cheek. "Yes, Princess, let's hope they come back."


	20. Chapter 20

**The Greatest Reward**

Reese gently turned the steering wheel to help guide the car into the long, curved driveway. He glanced to his right where Joss sat with her eyes closed behind her large sunglasses. He was sure if he called her name she would deny she was sleeping, but the slight snoring told him otherwise.

With a sharp eye, he watched the signs slip by as he looked for one place in particular. The corners of his mouth gently curved upward as "Twilight's Dream" appeared. Pulling into the parking space beside the cottage, he put the car in park and turned off the engine.

He thought Joss might come awake, but she slept. And he watched her. He watched the slight rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took. And he watched the softness of her face as it let go of all stress and relaxed. He wanted so much to reach out and touch her...

"I can feel you staring at me, John," Joss spoke huskily.

"I was just checking, Joss," Reese fibbed, mentally kicking himself for being careless and giving himself away.

"I'm resting."

"Sleeping."

"Resting," Joss contradicted. She pulled off the sunglasses and ran a hand over her eyes. Before she could help it, a large yawn overtook her. Reese raised his eyebrow. "Okay," she conceded with just a touch of reluctance, "maybe I was...slumbering."

"Slumbering," Reese repeated, his eyes dancing with humour.

"That's my story and I'm sticking to it." Joss looked at the small cottage with interest. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Cabot Cove, Maine."

Joss turned to look at Reese. "Wait. Did you say 'Cabot Cove'?"

"Yes."

"Cabot Cove," Joss repeated with a small laugh of disbelief. "Like 'Murder She Wrote' Cabot Cove?"

"The same," Reese confirmed, "but without Jessica Fletcher."

"No." Joss shook her head. "You're pulling my leg."

"I'm not, Joss. I swear it's very real." Reese crossed his heart solemnly. Unfastening his seatbelt, he opened the driver's side door and stepped out. The cool breeze from the bay was a just this side of cool, but it was nice. Reese felt rejuvenated as he unlocked the trunk.

Joss unfastened her seatbelt and followed Reese. "I didn't know you were a Jessica Fletcher fan. Where did you find this place?"

"I told you I had a life before the Army, Joss. My mother loved the show and made me watch it with her. When she became ill, it was one of the things that helped her relax." Reese lifted out the suitcase and duffel bags, setting them on the ground. He closed the trunk lid.

"I didn't know," Joss murmured.

"She'd pretend that Cabot Cove really existed and planned to take a vacation there. She didn't know it was real."

"I didn't know myself," Joss confessed. "How did you find this place? And don't tell me that one of your missions took you here."

Reese chuckled as he picked up the luggage. "No, I wasn't on a mission. I happened to be bunked with a guy from Kennebunkport while I was in Desert Storm. He told me how his family would go sailing in this area during the summer. He promised to take me here."

Joss smiled. "That was nice of him. Maybe you can look him up while we're here," she suggested.

Reese moved the strap of the duffel higher on his shoulder. "He died on a mission in '99."

Joss lowered her eyes. "Oh." No further explanation was required. "So...um...what's to do around here?" she asked, changing the topic. The area was nice and beautiful, but it appeared...dull.

"What would you like to do?" Reese challenged as he fished out the key from his jeans pocket. Inserting into the lock, he turned it until he heard a click. Opening the door, he stepped back to let Joss enter first. He smiled at her reaction.

"Ohhhh..." Joss breathed, looking around the small but beautifully furnished room. She took in the sweetly upholstered couch and loveseat, an antique coffee table and lamp table finished off the set. In the left corner was a fireplace with a mantle.

"What is this?" she asked and walked over to the large bouquet of flowers sitting on the kitchen island. A note was attached. Taking it, she opened it and read it to herself.

"What does it say?" Reese asked. He set the bags inside and closed the door with his foot.

"'Have a great time. Finch.'"

Reese looked at the flowers. "He has great taste."

"Where are the bedrooms?"

"Back here." Reese led the way to the two rooms at the opposite end of the cottage. "You can have the king; I'll take the twin."

Joss shook her head. "John, I can't let you do that."

"You're my guest."

Joss rolled her eyes. "Do I have to pull rank?" She put her hands on her hips.

"When you see what I have planned for us, you might thank me later."

"Or shoot you," Joss added.

"Either way, I'm sure you'll appreciate it."

Realizing that he wasn't going to divulge any further information, Joss clapped her hands together. "Okay, let me unpack so we can get this show on the road. Any particular type of clothing I should wear?"

Reese looked her up, then down. "Comfortable shoes."  
***********************

"Oh, my gosh!" Joss groaned and rubbed her belly. "I don't think I can move." Slowly, carefully, she walked into the small cottage and sat down on the couch. Although the outside air was chilly, the inside of the room was so insulated that although it was tempting to light a fire, it wasn't necessary.

"That's okay." Reese sat down on a nearby loveseat

"I don't think I've ever had lobster this good before."

"You liked it?"

"Liked it?! I _loved_ it! I could have had another." Joss licked her lips at the memory of the freshly caught lobster that she drowned in hot garlicky butter sauce. It had been messy but oh, so delicious. No, delicious was an understatement; _heavenly_ was more appropriate.

"You had two," he reminded her.

"I could have had a third."

"But then you wouldn't have had room for the Boston Cream Pie," Reese pointed out.

"Uh, don't remind me," Joss groaned again. She hadn't been expecting a literal quarter piece of home-made pie, but when it had arrived at the table, how could she have turned it down? Now she wondered if she could have gotten a doggy-bag instead?

"I'm not going to fit in my clothes when I get home," Joss half-joked, but a part of her didn't care. She felt so full. So good. So content.

"We'll buy you new clothes," Reese offered. He picked up the remote and hit a button. A moment later, soft music filled the area.

"I may need a tent, John, and I don't think Finch will spring for that."

"Don't worry, we'll still love you—even if you do wear a tent." Reese forced himself to stand up and walk to the tiny kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a bottle of wine. Setting it on the island, he took down two glasses from the cupboard and filled them half full. He grabbed them by the stems and carried them to Joss.

"Wine?" he offered.

Joss took the proffered glass. "Thank you." She brought the glass to her lips and sipped. "I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me."

"It was just dinner," Reese evaded as he resettled back on the loveseat.

"It's more than dinner, John. You've been pampering me like a princess."

"You deserve it."

Joss scoffed. "I deserve three days in the heart of Pennsylvania, then shopping all along the east coast?" She took another sip. "And now I'm in some remote paradise part of Maine."

"Why not?"

"What's up your sleeve?"

Reese's eyes were completely void of anything that might give him away. "Nothing. I just want you to have a good time on your vacation."

"Well, you're going above and beyond the call of duty." Joss swirled the remainder of her wine. "So, what do you have planned for us tomorrow? Or is eating at fabulous restaurants all that people do around here?" she teased.

"Funny you should ask that." Reese pulled a pamphlet from his suit pocket. "Sailing, fishing, hiking, shopping, horseback riding..."

"Let me guess?" Joss sardonically replied.

"You don't get sea-sick, do you?"

Joss wrinkled her nose in response.  
********************************

"Are you having fun?" Reese asked as he adjusted the main sail on the small boat. Catching the wind just right, the vessel propelled forward.

"This is amazing!" Joss shouted loud enough to be heard over the wind and crashing waves. Nearly a half-hour out on the ocean, and she felt as though she had been doing this all of her life.

"I take that as a yes."

"Yes!" Joss couldn't get over the beauty and tranquility of the ocean. Sure, she had visited the beach a hundred times before, and she had done her semi-fair share of boating in her life, but nothing compared to the exhilarating feeling coursing thru her body. She felt free, as though stress would never be part of her vocabulary ever again.

Counting off the nautical miles, Reese slowed the boat down to a stop and dropped anchor.

"What are you doing?" Joss asked in surprise.

"Taking a breather." Lying down on the cushioned seat on the port side of the boat, Reese closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh salt air. He could feel some of the tension begin to leave his body.

"Come," he offered.

Debating for half a second, Joss took the cushion on the starboard side. She let the boat gently rock her like a lullaby. Or even a lover.

The minutes ticked by as the only sound was the waves lapping against the hull. It was almost ethereal.

"What are you thinking?" Reese asked, breaking the silence.

"How you keep amazing me."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't know you could sail."

"You never asked."

"Did you learn that in the CIA?" Joss chuckled. But at this point, nothing much would surprise her.

"Yep. Right between ferreting out enemy spies and shredding dossiers," Reese said with a wink.

"No, seriously, John. Where did you learn to sail?" Joss pushed for an answer.

"My grandfather. He lived near Pugeot Sound and in the summer—sometimes the winter—he would take me out on his boat. He had been in World War II—the Pacific Theatre, and he wanted to pass down his love of the ocean."

"That's why you joined the Army?"

"I love boats, Joss, but I couldn't see myself on one for three years at a time. Besides, you don't get to take out the bad guys when you're sitting in the middle of the ocean," he argued.

"True."

"What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Most people get sea-sick when they first get on a boat; you didn't."

Joss shrugged. "My dad took us out on a Boston Whaler a few times when I was growing up. He would rent one and we would spend a couple of hours in Hudson Bay. It was before..." She bit her lip "...you know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Joss shifted her weight on the cushion.

"Is he the one you have a picture of under your car visor?" Reese asked.

Joss sighed. "I won't ask how you know, but yes, he is," she admitted. Her voice was tinged with sadness.

"What happened?"

"Agent Orange. I was just newborn when he came home from the war," she explained. "And he seemed to be okay—until he wasn't. He finished school and got his degree and a great job, then he got what seemed to be a cold. It was just a little cough, a little lethargy that turned into chronic fatigue. Turned out he had liver cancer."

"How long?"

"Barely six months. Doctors did everything they could but it wasn't enough."

"Transplant?"

"Wouldn't have worked. He went from Stage II to Stage IV in the blink of an eye. Once it metastasized to his brain...well, all we could do was make him comfortable." Joss's heart still broke to remember her once vibrant father lying on the hospital bed, thin as a rail and only able to breathe with the aid of machines.

Reese stayed quiet. There was nothing he could say that could make Joss feel better. Reaching out, he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

"He would be so jealous right now," Joss commented, trying to ignore the way her hand fit perfectly in Reese's.

"About what?"

"This. Us. He always wanted to sail around the world. He would have loved this."

Suddenly, Joss stood up and stripped off her t-shirt to reveal the one piece swimsuit she wore. Reese sat up.

"What are you doing?" Reese asked.

"Going for a swim."

Not to be undone, Reese pulled off his t-shirt and threw it to the deck. In the blink of an eye, he was standing on the seat cushion preparing to dive.

"Last one in is a rotten egg," Joss called out. Before Reese could say anything, Joss pushed him into the water. With a shout, she followed.


	21. Chapter 21

**The Greatest Reward**

"Hey Mom!"

"Hi Taylor!" Joss smiled broadly to hear the voice of her son. It had been a couple of days since they had spoken, and though she wasn't completely worried, the mom part of her had been saying a few prayers for his safety.

"Thought I'd call and see how you're doing," Taylor said.

"Where are you?"

"Germany. We're going to hit Italy tomorrow—stay for a couple of days, then head back home," Taylor relayed his plans. "What about you? Still galavanting up the east coast?"

"I'm in Maine."

"Is it nice?"

"Beautiful." Probably more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. She had seen some places during her lifetime, but nothing compared to the little coastal town nestled almost in the middle of nowhere paradise.

"More apple festivals?" Taylor teased.

"No. I did go sailing and horseback riding." The trail she and John had taken had opened her eyes to beauty she had only seen in pictures. She had relished in the lush green scenery that seemed to bring her peace and comfort. Or had it been because of the man who had ridden with her?

"I didn't know you could ride a horse," Taylor responded in amazement to learn a new thing about the mom he had thought he knew better than anyone.

"I can hold my own." Or so she thought, until she tried to sit down. A long soak in the sunken tub tonight would help ease the aches and pains. If she didn't collapse into bed first.

"Are you sure you'll be able to go back to being a cop when you get home?"

"It's just a vacation, T. I'll be back to my old self in no time," Joss assured her son.

"Okay."

"How is Germany?"

"Nice. We went to a couple of museums and toured a brewery—don't worry, we didn't taste-test anything," Taylor quickly added. "But I did get you couple of souvenirs."

"Thank you."

"What about that guy?"

Joss played dumb. "What guy?"

"What guy? Mom, for a great detective, you make a crummy liar. I can hear it in your voice."

"There's no change," Joss protested and kicked herself for dropping her guard.

"Sure. You're happy. Probably happier than I can ever remember you being."

"I'm having fun," Joss said weakly. She didn't want to think about John Reese being the reason she was floating on air and letting her hair down for the first time in—well, forever.

Taylor laughed. "You call it that. He's good for you, Mom."

"What did you get Grandma?" Joss changed the subject.

On the other end of the call, Taylor rolled his eyes. "A shawl. I found it in a thrift store. The owner said it is nearly a hundred years old."

"It must have cost a fortune," Joss said and bit her lip. Not that she was going to squelch her son's vacation, but she didn't want to think about the exorbitant amount of money that had just been put on her credit card.

"Nah. The funny thing is that when I went to pay for it, the guy at the counter said it had been taken care of," Taylor said in disbelief. He was still trying to figure out how that had happened.

"Weird." Joss bit her lip as she tried to think what could have been behind Taylor's pre-purchase. One name did come to mind but she disregarded it. There was no way for John to know every movement that Taylor was making across Europe? Or could he?

"Majorly," Taylor agreed. "I guess I'd better let you go. We're all turning in early so we can catch the train tomorrow."

Her heart squeezed painfully with having to say good-bye. Joss's throat was thick with unshed tears. "You take care, Taylor."

"I will. You take care of you. Don't have too much fun, if you know what I mean."

"Love you."

"Love you more, Mom."  
*******************************

"Any word on our mutual friends?" Lionel asked as he sat down in the chair inside the expensive restaurant.

"They are in Maine."

"Wow. Maine," Lionel echoed, trying to sound impressed by the news. "And here I thought Wonderboy was going to _underwhelm_ Carter with not _enough_ excitement."

"Jealous, Detective?" Finch asked with barely concealed interest.

"Hell yeah," Lionel admitted. "I'm sure you didn't ask me to dinner to rub in the fact that my partner has three weeks vacation while I pound the pavement looking for bad guys." He unfolded his serviette, placing the silverware next to his plate.

"Actually, Detective, dinner wasn't in the plans."

"Ah, well, I'm here now." Lionel tucked the large serviette in the collar of his dress shirt. "So, what's on the menu." He reached for the menu.

"Detective..."

"Wait! You're serious!"

"Detective..."

"And I came bearing great news. Pfft! This is how you treat me?" Lionel pulled the serviette from his collar and threw it on to the table. A couple of patrons looked at the pair.

Bear whined from his place under the table. Finch looked to his left, then to his right.

"Lionel, sit down. Please."

Startled by the use of his first name, Lionel took his seat. But he warily eyed his friend.

"What is the news you have?" Finch asked.

"Kenny finished the treatment, and Joss can go back home on Friday," Lionel relayed with just a wrinkle of his nose. "I also met with the furniture company. The treatment is done to insure that this new batch never gets infected again. They will deliver on Thursday." He pulled the Bill of Lading out of his coat pocket and tossed it on the table.

"They wanted an upfront delivery fee. I took care of it."

Finch took the paper, scanned it for any innacuracies. Finding none, folded it and placed it in the breast pocket of his dress shirt.

"I will reimburse you, Detective."

"Big deal. It was a small price to pay for Carter to get away and have some fun...or what ever kind of fun Superman can provide."

"Thank you."

"However, there are a couple of things you can do for me," Lionel continued.

"I fear to ask," Finch muttered under his breath.

"I need a few new suits—you know, to replace the one that was ruined in the landfill."

"I will set you up with my personal tailor," Finch promised, relieved by the small request.

"Ninja Princess came through. That information you were requesting..." Lionel paused dramatically as he reach into his shirt pocket and pulled out a tiny notepad. Finch raised an eyebrow as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

"Yes?"

"It panned out." Lionel ripped off the piece of paper and slid it across the table. Finch picked it up, reading the address and name scrawled across the lined sheet. "But it's going to cost us."

"How much?" Finch steeled himself for any amount. Lionel tore off another piece of paper. Finch took it and breathed a sigh. Not as much as he had feared.

"I'll have the money for you tomorrow," Finch said, folding the sheets in half. "You did well, Detective."

Lionel puffed out his chest. "Well, they don't call me a 'detective' because I stand around eating cruellers all day," he boasted.

Under the table, Bear whined his opinion.

"I don't need any canine input," Lionel groused. He stood up. "I guess my work is done here."

Finch made an impromptu invitation. "Uh, why don't you join me?"

Lionel seemed surprised by the request. "For dinner?"

"Why not? I suppose I can use the company."

A huge kool-aid grin split Lionel's face. "Don't mind if I do." He sat back down in the chair. He picked up the menu. "Anything I want?" His eyes scanned the list of entrees. His stomach rumbled in response.

"Yes."

A waitress approached the table, her finger poised over the electronic ordering tablet. "Welcome to the Grande. May I take your order?"

"Fillet mignon—medium rare. Baked potato with everything. Salad. Cherry cheesecake with extra whipped cream," Lionel rattled off from memory. "It's going to be on one check, right Glasses?"

Finch smiled.  
*******************************

Stumbling out the bathroom, Reese rubbed his eyes and tried to come awake. Never one to admit defeat, he was just this side of admitting that maybe the horseback riding had been a little too much. Not even the toughest fight with a bad guy had given him as thorough an butt kicking as the beautiful Appaloosa mare did yesterday.

Massaging his lower back, he made a mental note to contact his physical therapist the moment his feet landed back in Manhattan. Until then, he was going to try and figure out how to make the last couple days of Joss's vacation memorable. However, any idea he entertained seemed to pale in comparison to what he had already done. Perhaps they could spend the next two days indoors or on the porch, he conceded with some reluctance.

 _Smartest thing you've done so far,_ his conscience chided. Before he could respond, his nose twitched. Was that coffee he smelled? And bacon too? He hurried to the main room to find Joss at the stove.

"Good morning sunshine," Joss greeted happily as she flipped the bacon so it could brown evenly on the other side.

"What are you doing?" Reese asked stupidly.

"Cooking."

"I can see that. I meant, what are you cooking?" Wasn't that supposed to be his job?

"Breakfast. And before you protest, you've been doing it from the day I 'moved in', and it is time I start pulling my weight." Joss checked the bacon. Finding them done, she moved the pieces to the napkin. Turning her attention to the second frying pan, she slipped the spatula under the bread to do a quick check, then flipped it. She repeated the process three more times.

"No. No, that's okay." Reese took one of the tall chairs at the island.

"You look like hell. Let me get you something to drink." Pulling a glass down from the cupboard, she filled it with orange juice. She set it in front of her friend.

"I didn't know we had orange juice," Reese mumbled as he tried to get comfortable.

"We didn't. I took the car and went to town while you were sleeping."

"I didn't hear you leave."

"You were out like a light. Besides, it helped me set my plan in motion."

"What plan?"

"After we eat," Joss evaded and turned her attention back to the stove. The bread was done. She slipped a couple of pieces on a plate, sprinkled it with powdered sugar, and laid fresh sliced strawberried to garnish. She set the plate down on the island.

"What is this?" Reese asked, eyeing the food. The aroma tickled his nostrils.

"French toast. I wanted to do something different."

"Oh."

"I figured it might be one of your favourites."

"How did you know?"

"A little bird told me."

"Would this little bird wear glasses and have a crew cut?" Reese asked, smiling.

"Maybe. Also, it was mother's intuition. Most of the men I've met in my life have this affinity for french toast. I took a gamble."

"It paid off." Reese grabbed the syrup and poured it liberally onto the tri-angles. Picking up his fork, he cut a large part of the corner off and placed it in his mouth. Closing his eyes, he savoured the morsel.

"Do you like it?" Joss asked.

Reese swallowed. "I surrender all cooking duties to you, Detective."

"Thank you." Joss readied her plate and took a seat opposite of Reese. They ate in silence.

"I spoke to Taylor last night," Joss said.

"How is he?"

"Doing great. He's in Germany—he didn't say where. Having the time of his life." Her jealousy no longer reared its ugly head. She had seen things she could never imagine.

"He told me that he went into a shop to buy a shawl for my mother, and when he went to pay, the bill was covered," Joss continued.

Reese brought the glass to his lips. "You don't say," he murmured around the rim.

"You didn't!"

Reese appeared surprised by the outburst. "I didn't, what?"

Joss set her fork down with a clank. "You did!"

"I didn't do anything," he defended himself against the accusation.

"You're telling me that you didn't wire any money to help Taylor?" Joss asked with barely veiled apprehension. A part of her wanted to believe her friend, but he did have a reputation for always being at the right place at the right time.

"Joss, I swear I didn't do anything." Reese crossed his heart for emphasis. "I didn't know Taylor was in Germany."

Joss sighed as the fight went out of her. "I believe you." She shook her head. "It's strange, though." She took a long sip of the orange juice. "Have you spoken to Finch?"

"Not since two days ago." Reese didn't want to admit that he sort of liked not having his mentor and friend constantly in his ear. As bad as that might sound, he did like the peace and quiet.

"Well, we have a couple of days of our vacation left; what do you have planned for us next?" Joss wondered.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Joss feigned surprise. "You've practically had this trip planned down to the smallest detail but you don't have anything else on the agenda?"

Reese shook his head. "Nothing. The calendar is empty."

"I find that difficult to believe."

"Do you want to do something?" Reese challenged.

Joss shrugged. "Maybe."

"We've pretty much done everything."

"Not everything."

The fork paused on the way to Reese's mouth. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

Smiling enigmatically, Joss tilted her head. "Finish eating and I'll show you."

Intriguied and impressed by her sudden take-charge attitude, Reese dived into his breakfast.


	22. Chapter 22

**The Greatest Reward**

Thunder rolled loudly as the rain fell fierce and fast. In the distance lightning cracked boldly to light up the dark sky. Along the flagstone path leading from the beach, two lone figures came into view.

"Hurry! Hurry!" Joss called as she ran as fast as her water logged sneakers would allow. In her arms she carried a blanket and bag, dodging raindrops unsuccessfully.

"I'm right behind you, Joss," Reese called back as he tried to balance the picnic basket and towels. He looked up to see the sky light up again. He mentally counted the seconds: Three. Three miles away. The storm was only just beginning.

"Get inside, Joss!" he ordered as they ran up the path to the front door of the cottage. Joss pulled the latch handle and nearly fell inside. Reese followed and kicked the door closed. Thunder rolled loud enough to shake the small buidling.

Standing in the middle of the room, Joss and Reese looked at one another in stunned silence. What had been planned to be a soothing, relaxing picnic on the beach—with wine and music to set the mood—had ended in a torrential downpour that had caught everyone by surprise. In a weird way, it had been hilarious.

Catching a glimpse of Reese, Joss tried to suppress a giggle . "What's so funny?" Reese asked out of curiosity.

"You. You look like a drowned cat."

"Well, you look as though you took a dive in the deep end of a pool, Detective," Reese remarked. His eyes scanned Joss from head to toe. He tried not to notice the drops of water that ran down her long, shapely legs, or the way her usually coiffed hair sprang into sensual curls which framed her face. It was all he could do to tear his eyes away from the drenched t-shirt which clung and hugged every single delicious curve of her body.

Joss pretended to be offended. "Excuse me?" She looked at herself. "Okay... Oh, look at me; I'm dripping all over the floor. I'm going to go get a towel. Stay there."

Joss hurried to the bathroom for a towel. "I'm sorry our picnic was ruined," she called from across the room.

"I didn't mind," Reese replied. He picked up the basket and set it in the sink to let the excess water drain out. He had to do something with his hands, quick. Maybe he should start a fire, or pour some wine.

"Still...it wasn't what I planned." Joss entered the kitchen. Over her arm she carried a large towel, while she used another to wick the water from her hair.

"It made it different." And priceless, he finished to himself. The last picnic he remembered was when he was ten, and it had ended in fire ants commandeering the area. Despite the downpour, this was the best picnic of his life.

"I was hoping for better," Joss argued in her defense. She planned for everything—except a worse case scenario. "Here," she handed Reese a towel, "dry off." In response, Reese shook his head quickly, spraying Joss with tiny droplets. "Hey!"

"What's wrong, Detective? Afraid of a little water?" Reese teased. He liked catching her off-guard.

"Not cool, John. Dry off."

Reese repeated the action, though there was less water this time. "I am."

"John..." Joss warned.

His look was of pure innocence. "What?"

"Don't make me make you..." She tried to don the role of no-nonsense Detective Carter.

Reese looked at her with cool blue eyes. Joss felt herself involuntarily shiver. So much for getting the upper hand.

"Make me, what, Detective?" He took a step forward. Joss swallowed. Hard.

"Dry off."

Reese took the towel and gave it a gentle but firm tug. Joss took a couple of steps forward, and put her hands on Reese's chest to help maintain her balance.

"I can think of other ways to dry off without using a towel," Reese said in a low tone that caused Joss's heartbeat to pick up speed and made her blood run hot.

"John..." she breathed. With her body so close to his, she could feel the heat radiate from him. She looked into his eyes and felt her breath catch. "...I don't think..."

"Don't think, Joss. Feel." Cupping her face in the palms of his hands, Reese lowered his head and covered her lips with his. For a moment, the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Pulling her close, he kissed her hungrily, his mouth moving over hers as he tried to quench his thirst. Reese cupped Joss's breasts, relishing in the way they fit so perfectly in his hands—almost as if she had been made for him.

Tongues tangling wildly, the pair tried desperately to get closer to one another as their hands roamed. A few seconds later, clothing fell in haphazard heaps on the floor.

Without breaking the kiss, Reese picked Joss up in his arms and carried her to the master bedroom. Carefully he placed her on the bed, stepping back to look at her—half undressed, her lips puffy from kissing...she looked vulnerable but sensual.

"John..." Joss spoke softly as she tried to read the expression on his face. Holding out her hand, she invited him to join her. Without another thought, Reese quickly shed the remainder of his clothes. He covered her body with his as he began to make love to her.

Starting at her eyes, he kissed a path to her lips, her chin, down the length of her neck. He pressed his lips to the rapid pulse in her neck, before trailing down to the valley between her breasts. Cupping the soft twin mounds in his hands, he heard her softly moan, then sigh, as he took a pebble hard nipple in his mouth and loved it.

Joss closed her eyes at the feel of Reese's touch on her skin. Never had she imagined that those rough, calloused hands could set her on fire with just a light stroke. And when he moved down across her belly to the apex of her thighs, she arched her back.

In all of his dreams about making love to Jocelyn Carter, John Reese never could have imagined that it would happen. Now he held her in his arms, hearing her chant his name while he caressed her and tried to make her reach completion. From the way her body arched and her breathing came in pants and gasps, he knew she was almost there.

Joss undulated her hips to help reach that pinnacle that was just...beyond...her...reach. Sobbing his name as the first wave caught her, then the crest broke. Bright lights danced behind her eyelids, her fingers curled into the comforter; her hips rose, fell, rose again; then her body shuddered to a violent satisfaction. She cried out his name.

"Shhhh..." Reese soothed, his lips kissed her face, her eyes, her lips. With his thumb, he brushed a tear from her cheek.

Joss opened her eyes. "I didn't...amazing..." she whispered, not trusting her voice.

"Kiss me," Reese ordered. Joss obeyed.

More erotic than anything she had ever experienced, she found herself getting lost in Reese. Moving up, he covered her body with his. The weight of his desire pressed against her belly. Its heat filled her, making her strain for more of him.

"John..." She desired him. She wanted him. Reaching up, she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. He looked at her. And she felt herself melt. With hesistant fingers, she touched his face. So soft, she thought to herself. With her other hand, she reached down to touch him. She heard the sharp way his breath caught.

"Joss, please," Reese gasped as every single thought went out of his head. She stroked him—slow at first, then bolder—until he grabbed her hand. She looked up with wide, brown eyes that beaconed him forward.

He settled between her thighs. Gently as he could, Reese slowly filled her, stopping when he heard her gasp. Dropping a kiss on her lips, he waited for her to adjust to him before thrusting forward and making them one.

"Look at me," he panted. It was taking every bit of restraint he had to hold back and let her have all the pleasure. He wanted to make it last for her, for himself. Joss's eyes were glazed with passion and fire and love—for him. And he felt his heart fall.

Outside, the rain pelted the windows hard as the storm intensified. Inside, another kind of storm was raging, but with sweeter results.

"Love me," she requested, wrapping her arms around him. Groaning low, Reese pushed forward to fill her completely. He tried to get his thoughts together as the moment he had dreamt about became a reality. He moved his hips to give slow, steady strokes, but Joss wanted more.

Lifting her hips, she took him deep and dared him to keep up with the pace she set. Surprised by her take-charge attitude, Reese followed with his own pace. Body to body, it was a race to see who could drive the other over the precipice first. Joss ran her fingernails down Reese's back and felt him shudder, then thrust fiercely. She did it again.

Covered in sweat, his pulse racing nearly at the speed of sound, Reese almost gave in and let her win. His body was screaming for completion, but he was wise to what she was doing. Lowering his head, he kissed her deep, letting his tongue mate with hers, before moving his hand between them. Blindly, he pressed his thumb to her and felt her buck under him.

He moved his hips faster. His thumb moved in a circle to raise her hips and take him deeper than he could have ever imagined. Faster and faster, he drove her to the brink, and by the way she dug her nails into him and cried out his name, he could tell she was almost there.

The moment he felt he couldn't hold back another minute, he felt her body tighten and hold him in a velvet fist. He took Joss's hands in his, thrusting deep and fast. "Look at me," he panted. Fire blue met fire brown.

Joss could feel the tight coil wind and wind, then break. She cried out "John!" as her body climaxed and shuddered in completion. She held on as the world spun out of control. Giving one more thrust, Reese barely remembered saying "Joss!" as he poured his life into her.

Holding fast to each other, they went over the cliff together.


	23. Chapter 23

**The Greatest Reward**

Thunder rolled loudly as the rain fell fierce and fast. In the distance lightning cracked boldly to light up the dark sky. Along the flagstone path leading from the beach, two lone figures came into view.

"Hurry! Hurry!" Joss called as she ran as fast as her water logged sneakers would allow. In her arms she carried a blanket and bag, dodging raindrops unsuccessfully.

"I'm right behind you, Joss," Reese called back as he tried to balance the picnic basket and towels. He looked up to see the sky light up again. He mentally counted the seconds: Three. Three miles away. The storm was only just beginning.

"Get inside, Joss!" he ordered as they ran up the path to the front door of the cottage. Joss pulled the latch handle and nearly fell inside. Reese followed and kicked the door closed. Thunder rolled loud enough to shake the small building.

Standing in the middle of the room, Joss and Reese looked at one another in stunned silence. What had been planned to be a soothing, relaxing picnic on the beach—with wine and music to set the mood—had ended in a torrential downpour that had caught everyone by surprise. In a weird way, it had been hilarious.

Catching a glimpse of Reese, Joss tried to suppress a giggle. "What's so funny?" Reese asked out of curiosity.

"You. You look like a drowned cat."

"Well, you look as though you took a dive in the deep end of a pool, Detective," Reese remarked. His eyes scanned Joss from head to toe. He tried not to notice the drops of water that ran down her long, shapely legs, or the way her usually coiffed hair sprang into sensual curls which framed her face. It was all he could do to tear his eyes away from the drenched t-shirt which clung and hugged every single delicious curve of her body.

Joss pretended to be offended. "Excuse me?" She looked at herself. "Okay... Oh, look at me; I'm dripping all over the floor. I'm going to go get a towel. Stay there."

Joss hurried to the bathroom for a towel. "I'm sorry our picnic was ruined," she called from across the room.

"I didn't mind," Reese replied. He picked up the basket and set it in the sink to let the excess water drain out.

"Still...it wasn't what I planned." Joss entered the kitchen. Over her arm she carried a large towel, while she used another to wick the water from her hair.

"It made it different." And priceless, he finished to himself. The last picnic he remembered was when he was ten, and it had ended in fire ants commandeering the area. Despite the downpour, this was the best picnic of his life.

"I was hoping for better," Joss argued in her defense. She planned for everything—except a worse case scenario. "Here," she handed Reese a towel, "dry off." In response, Reese shook his head quickly, spraying Joss with tiny droplets. "Hey!"

"What's wrong, Detective? Afraid of a little water?" Reese teased. He liked catching her off-guard.

"Not cool, John. Dry off."

Reese repeated the action, though there was less water this time. "I am."

"John..." Joss warned.

His look was of pure innocence. "What?"

"Don't make me make you..." She tried to don the role of no-nonsense Detective Carter.

Reese looked at her with cool blue eyes. Joss felt herself involuntarily shiver. So much for getting the upper hand.

"Make me, what, Detective?" He took a step forward. Joss swallowed. Hard.

"Dry off."

Reese took the towel and gave it a gentle but firm tug. Joss took a couple of steps forward, and put her hands on Reese's chest to help maintain her balance.

"I can think of other ways to dry off without using a towel," Reese said in a low tone that caused Joss's heartbeat to pick up speed and made her blood run hot.

"John..." she breathed. With her body so close to his, she could feel the heat radiate from him. She looked into his eyes and felt her breath catch. "...I don't think..."

"Don't think, Joss. Feel." Cupping her face in the palms of his hands, Reese lowered his head and covered her lips with his. For a moment, the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. Pulling her close, he kissed her hungrily, his mouth moving over hers as he tried to quench his thirst. Reese cupped Joss's breasts, relishing in the way they fit so perfectly in his hands—almost as if she had been made for him.

Tongues tangling wildly, the pair tried desperately to get closer to one another as their hands roamed. A few seconds later, clothing fell in haphazard heaps on the floor.

Without breaking the kiss, Reese picked Joss up in his arms and carried her to the master bedroom. Carefully he placed her on the bed, stepping back to look at her—half undressed, her lips puffy from kissing...she looked vulnerable but sensual.

"John..." Joss spoke softly as she tried to read the expression on his face. Holding out her hand, she invited him to join her. Without another thought, Reese quickly shed the remainder of his clothes. He covered her body with his as he began to make love to her.

Starting at her eyes, he kissed a path to her lips, her chin, down the length of her neck. He pressed his lips to the rapid pulse in her neck, before trailing down to the valley between her breasts. Cupping the soft twin mounds in his hands, he heard her softly moan, then sigh, as he took a pebble hard nipple in his mouth and loved it.

Joss closed her eyes at the feel of Reese's touch on her skin. Never had she imagined that those rough, calloused hands could set her on fire with just a light stroke. And when he moved down across her belly to the apex of her thighs, she arched her back.

In all of his dreams about making love to Jocelyn Carter, John Reese never could have imagined that it would happen. Now he held her in his arms, hearing her chant his name while he caressed her and tried to make her reach completion. From the way her body arched and her breathing came in pants and gasps, he knew she was almost there.

Joss undulated her hips to help reach that pinnacle that was just...beyond...her...reach. Sobbing his name as the first wave caught her, then the crest broke. Bright lights danced behind her eyelids, her fingers curled into the comforter; her hips rose, fell, rose again; then her body shuddered to a violent satisfaction. She cried out his name.

"Shhhh..." Reese soothed, his lips kissed her face, her eyes, her lips. With his thumb, he brushed a tear from her cheek.

Joss opened her eyes. "I didn't...amazing..." she whispered, not trusting her voice.

"Kiss me," Reese ordered. Joss obeyed.

More erotic than anything she had ever experienced, she found herself getting lost in Reese. Moving up, he covered her body with his. The weight of his desire pressed against her belly. Its heat filled her, making her strain for more of him.

"John..." She desired him. She wanted him. Reaching up, she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. He looked at her. And she felt herself melt. With hesitant fingers, she touched his face. So soft, she thought to herself. With her other hand, she reached down to touch him. She heard the sharp way his breath caught.

"Joss, please," Reese gasped as every single thought went out of his head. She stroked him—slow at first, then bolder—until he grabbed her hand. She looked up with wide, brown eyes that beaconed him forward.

He settled between her thighs. Gently as he could, Reese slowly filled her, stopping when he heard her gasp. Dropping a kiss on her lips, he waited for her to adjust to him before thrusting forward and making them one.

"Look at me," he panted. It was taking every bit of restraint he had to hold back and let her have all the pleasure. He wanted to make it last for her, for himself. Joss's eyes were glazed with passion and fire and love—for him. And he felt his heart fall.

Outside, the rain pelted the windows hard as the storm intensified. Inside, another kind of storm was raging, but with sweeter results.

"Love me," she requested, wrapping her arms around him. Groaning low, Reese pushed forward to fill her completely. He tried to get his thoughts together as the moment he had dreamt about became a reality. He moved his hips to give slow, steady strokes, but Joss wanted more.

Lifting her hips, she took him deep and dared him to keep up with the pace she set. Surprised by her take-charge attitude, Reese followed with his own pace. Body to body, it was a race to see who could drive the other over the precipice first. Joss ran her fingernails down Reese's back and felt him shudder, then thrust fiercely. She did it again.

Covered in sweat, his pulse racing nearly at the speed of sound, Reese almost gave in and let her win. His body was screaming for completion, but he was wise to what she was doing. Lowering his head, he kissed her deep, letting his tongue mate with hers, before moving his hand between them. Blindly, he pressed his thumb to her and felt her buck under him.

He moved his hips faster. His thumb moved in a circle to raise her hips and take him deeper than he could have ever imagined. Faster and faster, he drove her to the brink, and by the way she dug her nails into him and cried out his name, he could tell she was almost there.

The moment he felt he couldn't hold back another minute, he felt her body tighten and hold him in a velvet fist. He took Joss's hands in his, thrusting deep and fast. "Look at me," he panted. Fire blue met fire brown.

Joss could feel the tight coil wind and wind, then break. She cried out "John!" as her body climaxed and shuddered in completion. She held on as the world spun out of control. Giving one more thrust, Reese barely remembered saying "Joss!" as he poured his life into her.

Holding fast to each other, they went over the cliff together.


	24. Chapter 24

**The Greatest Reward**

Although soft music was playing on the radio, the interior of the car was quiet as both occupants stared out of their respective windows.

Her forehead leaning against the cool glass, Joss barely watched as the scenery passed by. She had been trying to get her thoughts together since yesterday morning when she had woken to find John gone, but nothing seemed to work. She had crossed the moral point of no return and slept with John Reese; nothing was going to change that fact. Maybe she could deal with it better had she not liked it. _Liked it?_ Her conscience screamed at her, _You loved it!_

Joss sighed.

Two days spent in bed, making love and feeling alive for the first time in her adult life, was unexpected and brand-new to her. Who knew that beneath that tailored-made suit was a lover the likes she had only dreamt about? In her life she had been loved and loved, but what she had experienced with John was nothing less than incredible. He had done everything right.

She could still feel his lips on her body as he took her to heights she had only read about in romance books. And when he put his hand under the small of her back and lifted her to fit perfectly against him... Her heart had melted. She wasn't sure, but she swore that her body was still humming.

But where did that leave her now?

Nearly a week in paradise in the middle of nowhere, she found inner-peace and tranquility. She realized that there was life beyond Manhattan and crime and police work. She found that beneath the cop and mom exterior, there was a red-blooded female who still craved love and affection. And sitting beside her was the man who not only brought the long-forgotten woman to the surface, but had opened her heart.

He had made love to her, but where did she stand with him? Better question: Where did he stand with her? After all, he was a fugitive—albeit a fugitive with a heart—and she couldn't be seen around town on his arm. What about going to parties and police functions? Surely, someone would recognize him—a tall, handsome man in a suit wasn't hard to forget—then what? More than that, what would Taylor say? Or worse, what would Lionel think?

 _You love him._

I do, Joss mouthed silently. But what if he doesn't love me?

 _He isn't Paul._

I know, and I want to; but what if...?

 _You're reading too much into nothing,_ she chastised herself. But her mind disagreed with her heart. And it was her heart that she was trying to trust. Okay, so she was going to throw caution to the wind and tell him that she had fallen in love with him—more than in love with him; she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Except, when she went to tell him yesterday morning, he was gone.

 _Coming back from the sweet slumber of sleep. Joss rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Looking out of the window, she could see the sun shining thru the trees. It was a brand new day._

 _Her legs stretched out to get the blood flowing. A purr of contentment escaped her lips as she remembered the last two days and nights. Her heart swelled, then fell as she realized she loved John Reese! Not trying to hide the smile that had broken across her face, Joss rolled over to give a good morning to her best friend and now lover. But when she reached for him, the space on the bed was empty._

" _John?" She had called out to the empty room but received no response. Pushing back the covers, she crawled out of the warm bed, walking across the cold wood floor to the main room. "John?" she called out again, but the room was empty. He was gone. He had left her alone. And now the moment she had waited for all of her life was gone. The magic was gone. Maybe it was time to go home, she admitted sadly to herself._

 _Turning on her heel, she made her way to the bathroom for a shower._

Maybe it would be best that when they returned to Manhattan, they went their separate ways. Not that she wouldn't loan herself out to catching bad guys or helping her friends evade authorities on both sides, she would make sure that when it came to being alone with John, a third party would always be there.

It was just going to take a while before she could trust herself to be with him. Blinking back the mist that blurred her vision, Joss kept her eyes focused on anything other than the man beside her.  
**************************************

Reese ran his hands under the warm water running from the faucet. He really hadn't had to freshen up, but it seemed like a good excuse to take a moment and get his thoughts together. Although he didn't exactly consider himself an expert on body language, it really didn't take one to read Joss.

Ever since leaving Cabot Cove, he could feel the way she was pulling away from him. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but how, without offending her? Maybe they had jumped the gun by going to bed, but he thought she had liked it. He had. He had more than liked it. And from the way she had responded to his touch, he would have bet his gun collection that her feelings had been mutual.

He ran his wet hands over his face and sighed. Maybe he should have kept his hands to himself.

 _Ha! As if you could have,_ his conscience goaded him. _You've been wanting her from the moment you first laid eyes on her. The fact that it took this long to make love to her shows you have great restraint._

"Yeah, I'm a real hero," Reese muttered to himself.

 _You love her._

"I do," he admitted aloud, "but what if she doesn't love me?"

 _She isn't Jessica._

"I know, and I want to; but what if...?"

 _You're reading too much into it. Just talk to her._

"Easier said than done." Reese thought back to earlier when he had woken to find Joss curled up beside him. Her small frame was spooned with his for the perfect fit. He remembered how his heart fell when he ran his hand over the curve of her hip, causing her to purr in her sleep and snuggle closer. He wanted to do something special for her, and what could be more special than breakfast in bed? But the fridge was bare, and that would mean having to go down to the store to pick up a few items.

He had carefully and stealthily slipped out of the warm bed and fumbled in the dark to put on his clothes so that he didn't wake Joss. Then on tip-toe, he made his way to the main room to slip on his shoes. Picking up the keys, he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

Yeah, he should have left her a note or sent her a text, but he hadn't planned on being away long enough for her to wake up and find him gone. But he had, and when he returned, Joss had given him—well, not a cold shoulder, exactly—but her attitude was different.

 _Talk to her!_

Reese pulled down a couple sheets of paper towel and rubbed the excess moisture from his face and hands. They did need to talk. After all, what if she had regrets? What if she didn't feel the way he felt? He gave a mirthless scoff. It wasn't as though they could exactly walk arm in arm down the sidewalk when they returned to Manhattan. No matter how great and productive the past couple of weeks had been, the fact of the matter remained: He was The Man In The Suit, and she was Detective Jocelyn Carter.

Maybe they could still catch bad guys together—as long as a third party was with them, he grudgingly conceded. It wasn't the hardest thing he had ever done, but it was going to be close.

Joss disconnected the call and set the phone down on the table as Reese approached her. Nervously, she picked at the corner of the serviette and tried to remain cool.

"Good call, I hope," Reese remarked as he took his chair on the opposite side of the table.

"Taylor," Joss replied.

A small smile adorned Reese's lips when he saw the love she had for her son light up her eyes. But he also felt a bit of jealousy. "Ah. How is he?"

"Fine. Apparently his European trip was a success and he will be home long enough to rest and repack his suitcase."

"Is he going somewhere?" Reese tried to remember if Taylor had anything else planned before going to college.

Joss nodded her head with a laugh of disbelief, as she picked up the water goblet. "It's the funniest thing; apparently Taylor has won an all expenses paid trip to Australia for two weeks." Her baby was coming home long enough to say hello, then he would be gone again. Oh, how her arms ached.

Reese looked impressed. "Australia?"

Joss rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me..."

"Never went," Reese confessed.

"Wait. What? You never made it to Australia?"

"It was the last place a bad guy wanted to go to, I guess. Europe is closer."

"Yeah, I guess there aren't many places to hide in the Outback," Joss agreed. "So, John..." she began, trying to put her thoughts and fears into words. At that moment their waitress appeared.

"May I take your order?" the young woman asked, her pen poised above the pad of paper.

"Steak, medium rare. Baked potato with everything. Broccoli with cheese," Joss recited from memory.

The order was quickly written down. "Dessert?"

"Strawberry cheesecake." Joss handed over the menu. The waitress turned to look at Reese.

"Same thing for me—except make it cherry cheesecake." Reese handed her the menu. With a smile, the woman turned and left.

"You were saying?" Reese prompted.

"About what happened...between us...I..." Joss fumbled.

"It was nice," Reese finished. _Liar!_

"Yes. Yes, it was nice," Joss quickly agreed. _Liar!_

"But..." Reese prompted.

"I don't know if...we...you know..."

"It's going to put a crimp in our relationship?" Reese guessed.

"Well, I mean, we've always worked well together," Joss admitted. _In more ways than one, now_. She felt her cheeks grow warm.

"We are a team," Reese pointed out.

"We are."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them.

"We can't go back," Joss finally broke the silence.

"No, we can't."

"And I was thinking...when we get back to Manhattan, could you drop me off at my place?" Joss smiled weakly, looking down at her hands that were fidgeting nervously in her lap. They were dancing around the issue and they both knew it.

"What about your personal items back at the loft?" Reese asked. A part of him felt hurt by Joss's rejection of what they had shared. But another part—the wise part that had learned many lessons in life—understood.

"I'll get them later—after I get settled." Or maybe never. She wasn't sure what she was going to do with everything she had left with John. All she knew was that she had to put some distance between them.

"I see."

"I have so much to do. I have new furniture to buy—after I settle up with the Homeowner's Policy. And I have to get a new wardrobe. Plus, there is no telling how much paperwork I need to catch up on," Joss listed off her To Do List.

"I'm sure Fusco kept on top of it," Reese said with just a touch of sarcasm.

"Heh. That's why I need to get back to work."

Their meals were delivered. Once the water glasses were refilled and nothing else was required, the waitress left the pair alone.

Joss picked up her steak knife. She cut into the freshly cooked steak. "I think we should keep what happened to ourselves." Reese raised an eyebrow. "Imagine what Fusco will do."

"I can handle Lionel," Reese replied confidently.

"I'm sure you can, John."

"But if it will make you feel better, my lips are sealed."

"Thanks." Joss laid her fork down and placed her hand down on the table. Hesitantly, Reese covered it with his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You're welcome, Joss."


	25. Chapter 25

**The Greatest Reward**

"Hey Superman," Lionel's voice greeted cheerily over the speaker of the phone.

"Hello Lionel," Reese greeted with little enthusiasm as he guided the car down the road into Manhattan. It had been a long six hours since leaving Cabot Cove with nothing but the radio to break the silence.

"Whoa! Tap down that happiness level there, pal. I think you should pass on any future vacations," Lionel sarcastically advised.

"What do you need, Lionel?" Joss's voice chimed in, her tone matched Reese's. Since leaving Maine, they had barely said a half a dozen words to each other. It had been a cold, lonely drive back home.

"Wow! You too? Remind me to never go north the next time I want to get out of here."

"Lionel!"

"Okay, okay. Though with your attitudes, I think you broke the heatwave. But I'll get to why I called. There's been a change in plans with Carter moving back in," Lionel informed without pause. Hey, he was no fool, and he knew that the news was not going to be greeted with open arms. No, quite the opposite. And a bullet or two, if he were lucky.

"What change of plans, Lionel?" Joss prompted. She wasn't going to think worse-case scenario.

Lionel swallowed. Hard. "Kenny was making his final walk-thru inspection and he...well, it's not anything real bad, just...well...it's not good..."

"Cut the crap, Fusco, and tell us what happened," Joss ordered in her no-nonsense Warrant Officer tone.

"He found a bug."

"He what?!" Joss and Reese chorused together. Joss felt her heart sink at the news. _Not again!_

"It's no big deal," Lionel tried to diffuse the moment by sounding chipper.

"No big deal?" Joss asked angrily. "I just spent the better part of three weeks away from my home, and now you're telling me that I can't go home?"

Reese tried to hide the hurt look at Joss's statement.

"Look, don't shoot the messenger, okay? These things happen. The little buggers are pretty resilient and every now and then one survives," Lionel put forth the tidbit as though it might change things.

Joss shook her head in disbelief as she tried to tap down her anger at the unfairness. "How much is this going to cost me?"

"Nothing. The whole process is one-hundred percent guaranteed. Kenny is going to do another treatment and walk-thru."

 _Small comfort_ , Joss sighed with appreciation at the exterminator's attention to detail.

"How many days will this take?" Joss wondered. She slid her eyes to the side to catch a glance at the man next to her. Could she handle another week or two beside him?

"Two—three, tops. Once it's done, it's done."

"Lionel."

"Look, Joss, either it's up to par, or you go thru this again in six months. Do you really want to do that?" Lionel asked in his best parental tone. Taken aback by the use of her first name and the authoritative tone of her usually timid partner, Joss looked impressed.

"Three days it is," she agreed reluctantly. "But where am I supposed to stay?"

"Looks like you have a couple of more days with Wonderboy," Lionel said as though it was the most logical choice without argument.

Joss took a deep breath and counted to ten. _Not happening. This isn't happening,_ she told herself.

"Stay out of trouble and I'll call you when it's done. Ciao!" The line went dead. The interior of the car was just as silent as the line while Joss and Reese searched for something to say.

"No," Joss said as the news finally sunk in. "No more."

"Joss..." Reese tried to offer some kind of consolation for what just happened. But she interrupted him.

"No, John. I just got rid of everything I owned—some of those things I can never replace—and spent nearly three weeks away, all so I can be told that it was for naught?" Joss replied, barely keeping her temper under control. It was so unfair.

"Joss..." What could he say to make everything okay? He knew how much she wanted to go home and settle back into her life, but that wasn't what he wanted.

"I guess I could try a hotel for the next three days," Joss reasoned, although her tone seem dejected at the thought of doing so.

"Sure, Joss," Reese conceded, although a bit wounded that she would dismiss his invitation.

Joss's fingers flew over the tiny keypad. "Really?!" she asked rhetorically. She tried typing again. Nothing.

Reese glanced to his right. "What's wrong?"

"The internet is down."

Reese played stupid. "Oh?"

"There are wi-fi hot-spots all over this area. If I didn't know any better, I would think some sinister machine had it in for me," Joss groused and threw her phone into her purse.

"You can come home with me," Reese offered, carefully avoiding the sinister computer topic.

Joss shook her head. "I don't know, John. I mean, it's a nice offer and all, but..." Her heart beat fast at the possibility of extending her time with him, but the logical part of her brain tapped down her enthusiasm.

"Your things are still there," Reese added to help solidify the main reason she had to stay.

Joss looked at Reese. "I don't want things to be weird between us, John. Or rather, weirder than they already are."

"Nothing weird about needing a place to stay, Joss," Reese murmured, guiding the car down the street toward his loft.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Let's get something to eat before we move forward," Reese suggested. He pulled the car beside the curb and turned off the engine.

"I don't know, John."

"It's just two days, Joss. I will be a perfect gentleman." Reese crossed his heart for emphasis.

Remembering the feel of his body pressed to hers, Joss felt her cheeks burn hot. Part of her wanted to tell him that she wasn't afraid of him not being a perfect gentleman, just the opposite.

"Okay," she agreed. She opened her door and stepped out on to the sidewalk. It felt weird to have concrete under her feet after sitting for so long.

"Maybe you should call Taylor and let him know there's been a change in plans. At least he'll have time to make arrangements for a place to stay. I'll get our bags and meet you inside," Reese suggested, opening the trunk and pulling out the carry-on bags. With hurried steps, he headed inside.

"Sure." Joss reached for her phone and dialed her son to update him with the change of plan.  
*****************************

"How long do you think we can hold them off before they realize they are in love?" Lionel asked before biting into the fully loaded hot dog. With two shootings in Washington Heights, the breakfast he had earlier was long forgotten. This was his first break in eight hours, and he was starving.

"Depends, how many bullets can you absorb before you bleed out?" Shaw deadpanned. She busied herself with fully loaded grande steak burrito. Three numbers saved and one hit-man taken out, it had been a productive day. Now she was rewarding herself.

"Smart ass," Lionel gave a sarcastic snort around the bite. "How can you eat that thing?" he asked, eying Shaw's treat.

"How can _you_ eat that _thing_?" she returned in the same tone.

"I've been working my ass off, so you know?"

Shaw looked unimpressed. "That's why you're wearing it?"

Lionel looked down at the splotch of chili and mustard decorating his tie. "What the—?" He grabbed a serviette and tried to clean up the mess. "Son of a..."

"Good going, Lionel."

"I just bought this tie," he grumbled.

"With any luck, you'll be buried in it."

"No such luck, sweetheart, this is going to work," he boasted confidently. "Those two knuckleheads need just a little more time together."

"And if it doesn't?"

"I have an ace up my sleeve." Lionel took a huge bite of the hot dog.

"I think it's mustard."

"Dag nabbit!" Lionel furiously wiped the yellow dollop before it could stain the stain material.

"What are you going to do when Taylor comes back and the brownstone isn't ready?" Shaw wondered with vague interest. It was no sweat off her back if Lionel ended up pushing up daisies, but she would miss him.

"Glasses has that taken care of."

"You're going to get shot; you do realize that, right?"

"Look, Sameen. I wasn't expecting them back already, and it's still going to take a few more days for my project to be completed. I had to think of something to hold them at bay."

"Sounds logical," Shaw agreed with his twisted logic. "But you only have two days before Joss starts chomping at the bit and demands to go back home. Then what?"

Lionel grumbled and groaned to himself. "Always the worst case scenarios with you CIA types. Did you ever learn positive thinking?" Finishing his snack, he balled up the trash and tossed it in the nearby waste can.

"You mean like 'the glass is half-full' theory?" Shaw shrugged. "Never had much use for it."

Lionel brushed his hands off. "I can tell."

"It keeps me from weighing pros and cons in a life or death situation."

"Good thing I stuck with being a police officer."

"Giving yourself airs, Lionel?"

"As long as they keep paying me for showing up, I'm not going to complain." Lionel looked at his watch. "Well, break-time is over. I need to get back to work and collect that pay-cheque."

"Savour it," Shaw said with a wink.

Walking away, Lionel turned to throw a look over his shoulder. "I plan to." He returned the wink.  
**********************

"What do you mean the brownstone isn't ready?" Taylor reacted to his mother's news.

"There has been a...sudden change of plans." To say the least. "And Kenny is going to need a couple of more days to insure that everything is dead."

"Wow! I didn't know they were so indestructible," Taylor joked.

"They are pretty resilient," Joss agreed reluctantly. "I'm sorry the house wasn't ready for when you come back," she apologized.

"That's okay, Mom. I found out that our flight was overbooked and we have to stay another couple of days." Not that he was complaining. He loved Europe and the U.K., and he had been secretly wishing to spend a little more time soaking up the culture.

"Do you have enough money?" Joss wondered. The trip had been planned down to the last penny, but this unforeseen event could end up costing her more than she had set aside.

"The airline is putting us up, so you don't have to worry," Taylor assured his mother.

"If you're sure..."

"What's really bothering you, Mom?"

Joss tried to maintain her cool attitude. "What do you mean?"

"You don't sound like yourself," Taylor observed.

"I'm fine. Just tired and worried about you," Joss replied, trying to divert the subject from herself.

"Mom, I'm not a baby anymore," Taylor protested indignantly at her attempts to coddle him.

"I know, but you're still my child."

Inwardly, Taylor groaned. "I'm eighteen."

"In another month."

"Okay. Sure," Taylor conceded. There was no winning when going up against his mother.

"Will you call me when you get in?"

"Yes. I promise. And Mom?"

"Yes, T,"

"We'll talk when I get home." Before Joss could respond, Taylor disconnected the call. Sighing, she pocketed the phone.  
******************

Standing alone on the corner of the street, Taylor looked at his phone. He hoped that he had sounded convincing about the plane being overbooked and delayed, because he never could lie to his mom. She had always been able to read him like a book. But maybe the few thousand miles between them had offered him a bit of cover to help maintain his white lie.

The call had come earlier, when a man by the name of Harold Finch introduced himself and offered a deal he couldn't refuse: Two extra days in London—all expenses paid—in exchange, all Taylor had to do was call home and relay it just the way he had been instructed. He wasn't sure, but he would bet his trip to Australia that it had something to do with the guy friend his mother was with, and not bed bugs. But what did he know?

"Hey, T!" Taylor turned to see his friend in the doorway of the restaurant/pub. "They called our table."

His stomach rumbled in response. Taylor pocketed the phone. His job was done, and his mom could take care of herself. Right now, he needed to eat.

"On my way!"


End file.
